Hypocrite
by Jinx33
Summary: Mockingjay twist. Snow doesn't have a granddaughter, instead he has two daughters and one of them is chosen for the Districts own Hunger Games with Capitol children. But when two rival lives clash together will Peeta resist getting to know Snow's strangely beautiful daughter, or will he be the death of her? Peeta/OC
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

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**Katniss' POV:**

"I think this is a horrible idea, it makes us exactly like them. It is hypocritical." Peeta's eyes look ahead staring at the Capitol's children gathering around in the enclosure that President Coin has separated among them by age.

Like ants they scatter around, afraid-so little and brightly colored. All I can think is how Prim would not have wanted this, but the thought causes my stomach to clench because she is gone. Forever. And I want to make them pay, make these ignorant people pay for my sister's pain and death. However, most of all, I just want revenge.

This is why I ignore Peeta's comment, so what if it makes us hypocrites, they have spilled enough of our children's blood it is time they learn how it feels. How it feel to have a loved one ripped from your grasp, so violently, and all you can do is stand and watch. Helpless.

Coin is calling the boy's first, instead of girls, and I watch five brightly colored birds flocking to the stage in ignorance-not knowing what is to come, not understanding they will be fighting to the death before their families and friends eyes. I vaguely make the analogy of on resembling Cinna, but quickly squash the thought and bury the emotion far below.

It is the girls turn, and I wondered why Coin did not make an age limit on these "Games," I have seen boys ranging from thirteen to twenty so far. "I suppose everything is fair game to the new president," I think bitterly as I watch Coin shaking up the girls names. One flowery looking girl, who looks about sixteen, walks onto the stage. Following her are two other's, twenty-one-year-old's but how can you really tell their ages with all the alterations. I look away in disgust.

Then I hear a desperate cry, and whip my head back to be taken back into a hell I thought I had already lived and repressed. But there it was right in front of me, mocking me, a girl younger than Prim had been when her name was called. Damn it, she even is tiny and blonde like my sister. I want to scream but it seems someone has already reacted. God, the girl cannot be more than 7 years-old. Coin cannot be serious.

I watch as a girl runs up screaming that she volunteers, probably her sister, just like I once did. I cannot bear to watch this, and Peeta is pounding on the glass now cursing at this abomination. A hand slides in mine and I look numbly into the dark eyes of Gale, as he gives me a reassuring squeeze.

I had chosen him, and as I look at Peeta I see the pain reflecting in his bright blue eyes before turning back to the horrible scene before them. Something they had helped create, something they were apart of and I could not help but think how right Peeta is-as he always seems to be. We are hypocrites.


	2. Chapter 2Innocent

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**Athena's POV:**

I scream, rushing for my baby sister, pleading for them to let me take her place. And see the hate reflected clearly in the eyes of President Coin, she knows our name. I know she knows because everyone knows the man I despise to call my father, the man who is the cause of these cruel games.

"I believe I called a Miss Pompeia Snow. Now get back in line you little swine," Coin hisses coldly. But I refuse to bend to her will and let my innocent 6-year-old sister pay for the things my father did.

"No, do what you want with me, but Pompeia is just a child. She knows nothing of this war, please, have mercy. I will do anything. Take me, take me, she is just an innocent child." I feel the tears forming in my eyes and force them back as I see the woman's face harden and become a darkness of hate. And then she smiles, and it is a cruel smile.

"You are her sister, another Snow, are you not?" Her words drip with venom and I shiver, nodding in reaction for I cannot seem to will my tongue to form words.

"Answer me! Out loud, you stupid creature!" Immediately my eyes widen in fear and as I mumble an apology and say yes, I hear a familiar chuckle from in the crowd. My father. Crudely laughing at his children's expense. How lovely.

"Good, I tell you what, for disrespecting my way of planning you will be whipped until I say so. And if you do not cry out, or fall unconscious, I will allow you to take your sister's place. A Snow is a filthy Snow after all and I do not care which I take."

My body trembles but I confirm her request and push my mind far away as I am demanded to kneel before the District officials, as a respect to them and to turn my back on the Capitol. I hear the first strike before I feel it, and as pain lashes at me from within I clench my teeth in determination. I will not cry out. I know I won't because this is not the first time I have been beaten senseless. If they would look under my shirt they would see the truth, they would see the scars from past whippings.

My father is an angry man, especially after my mother killed herself to get away from him, and after he lost her as a punching bag he turned to me. Mostly because I provoked him, but also because I would not allow for him to control me or lay a finger on Pompeia. I love her more than anything in this world. And I'll be damned before I let this monster take her from me, my innocent baby sister who is suppose to turn seven in less than a week, I feel myself shake with anger as I think about her being slashed to shreds of blood and flesh by someone three-times her size.

I have lost count of the lashes that strike my back-lost in my own anger, hate, and worries-and I look up to see everyone in the crowd and see them holding each other in fear and misery. But it is the eyes of my father I find in the sea of familiar faces, those cold dead eyes that fill that paper-colored skull of his. He is smiling, proud and pompous, for reasons only I can understand. He thinks he has won because he knows I will not cry out, or fall unconscious because I never did no matter how hard he punished me. The bastard even has the audacity to wink at me. All I want to do is smack that expression off his face, does he not realize this is not a game? Of course not.

The President, Coin, must have realized the whipping was not going as planned because she took the whip out of the man's hands and, as I waited for her to tell me to rise, I did not expect the next crack of the whip. I nearly lost my nerve and almost cried out in surprise. Almost had my sister's death on my hands. Almost.

Coin was vicious with the whip, she struck me with the same force my father did so many times when furious. I felt the flesh of my back peel, and figured it would never heal properly. Not the first time such a thing has happened but there was usually the Capitol's medicines to heal me, not that I enjoyed using those.

In fact I was probably the worst example of the Capitol, I do not eat our food. Well I sort of do but I am a vegetarian and stick to plain foods that are not strangely colored. It drives my father nuts because my mother was the same way.

A crack hits, and I am shocked to find it lick my cheek; my father never hit my face or anywhere visible to the public for obvious reasons. My face throbs and a tear welds up in my eye, but I forced myself to not give in. I will not let my sister die, not if I can help it. I bite my lip wondering when someone will tell this crazed woman to stop. Another strike slams into me with such a force that has me fall forward but I get back up to kneel before the district, to stand for something more than the Capitol slime that is my father.

I hear the shattering of glass and think "_Great, now she is going to throw things at me_." But a silence covers the room like a thick blanket and I wait for the violence to take place. Another crack of the whip slams into my side, slicing open a bit of my arm in the process.

"That is enough! Can you not see you are killing her when she is just trying to protect that child? What the hell is wrong with you?" A masculine voice is clouded with outrage, and for someone like me. Now that is interesting. "I give you permission to rise, girl. Snow or not."

I rise, a little wobbly but can you really blame me? And as I turn to face Coin I see a murderous expression on her face, and her eyes are pinned on me. Uh-oh. Coin stampedes up to me and hits me with the whip blindly, I jump back in surprise but get hit in the cheek and arm again.

Suddenly a familiar figure stands in front of me, he is tall and has a muscular build with a head of blonde hair. When he turns to gesture to me I notice why he is so familiar, it is Peeta Mellark. But why would he protect me when my father murdered his whole family, along with most of his friends? He was a victor from the second to last Games, along with his "lover" Katniss Everdeen, and was a participant in the last Games with all the tributes. It just does not make sense.


	3. Chapter 3Honor thy Father

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**Athena's POV:**

I waited as Peeta spoke to Coin-with Coin pretty much screaming at him-but he kept a calm stature, which I found amazing. I felt eyes on my back, or maybe it was just throbbing, and when I turned around I met the fiery eyes of Katniss Everdeen with a man following closely at her heels. Katniss looked at me and quickly turned away to look at the man beside her, who took hold of her hand as if to support her. And then I realized the man was Gale Hawthorne, the "cousin" of Katniss, except they are not really cousins-obviously. Gale leaned forward and kissed Katniss' temple as they made their way past me and towards Peeta and Coin.

Poor Peeta. I see a tortured look entering his eyes as he watches Katniss and Gale walking towards him, he must have really loved her. But somehow I do not feel myself disliking Katniss for choosing Gale, they have history and you cannot break that. However I would not be surprised if Katniss hated me, I am a constant reminder of my father and her dead sister-Primrose. Yes, I would despise me if I was in her position. If Pompeia...no, no Athena you cannot think of such thing happening to little Pompe.

Speaking of Pompeia-I search the crowd for her and find her on the ground, beside my father, holding her tiny hand to her mouth as tears run down her pale little face framed with two braids I had fumbled over this morning at her request. I look at my father and he smiles cruelly and looks down in disgust at Pompeia, for her showing weakness. I want to run to her, hold her, and tell her everything is going to be alright but I know I cannot. That I would be unable to lie to her, or myself. I lock eyes with Pompeia's and press my hand to my heart, our symbol to let one another know we are alright and that we love each other. She gazes at me with her big blue eyes filled with tears and chokes back a sob, and then presses her hand over her heart.

I turn back-and in the process see my father looking from me to Pompeia in disgust-and find all the eyes of the district officials on me. Coin, Katniss, Gale, Peeta...everyone. And everyone has a different expression on their face. Coin: angry, as expected. Katniss: a dead look written in her eyes, laced with pain and anger. Gale: mild interest and slighty angry. Peeta...well Peeta just seems mortified with a touch of pity. Great.

Coin breaks the silence with a scream of rage and runs up to me again, but this time I am ready and do not need Peeta to come to my rescue. I steel myself, preparing for some kind of physical assault but she stops in front of me-cocking her head to the side like a bird that discovered something interesting.

"So you still wish to take your sister's place? What if I said we would kill your father? Would you share the same attitude of rebellion for him as you do your sister? Family is family after all."

"Yes, I am going to take my sister's place." Because I love her, and nothing else in this world but I do not give her the satisfaction of knowing my emotions. Not that she would care, of course.

"And your father? Or have you so conveniently forgotten about my question about him? Figured you would." Coin looks at me like I am a piece of something vile she discovered she stepped in and just found on the bottom of her shoe.

"My father," I say and find him smiling cruelly at me in the crowd. "My father deserves to die for what he caused to your districts, all of us do. But not my six-year-old sister, or any of the other child who knows nothing else of this life-the life of the Capitol." I look at my sister and her tear-stained face, pale with fear. The only person who gives a damn about me; the one I have been fighting for my whole life, and will never stop fighting for.

I hear the crowd gasp at my words, and Coin's face is dark when I turn back to look at her. "And would you include yourself to be put to blame, or do you consider yourself 'a child' because I'll be honest, your kind didn't seem to care about it being our children who were sacrificed for your _Games_."

"I am not a child, and I take responsiblity for my actions. A bystander is just as bad as the person who is dictating the problem but young children do not know. And if even if they did, they could not have stopped it, they're children." My words fall over the silent room, and Coin looks at me for a long moment before speaking.

"Very well, you will take the place of your sister in the Games. Come forward, and what is your name?"

"Athena Snow," I whisper and search for my sister's eyes one last time because I know there is no way I will be winning these Games. I search for her face but I am unsuccessful in seeing it, my stomach drops and I push the feeling aside. And as I look out into the crowd I witness the audiences sighs of relief as they understand I will be taking my sister's place because it is hard not to love Pompeia but I made it a challenge for them to even like me.


	4. Chapter 4Skin

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**Athena's POV:**

Tears fall threaten to fall from my eyes minutes after the door shuts, locking me in my confinement. I want to scream and shout but most of all I want to run. Run and never stop. Grab Pompeia and run far from here, but there is no escape. No where to run to, or hide.

I let the first few tears fall and soon they are rushing with a force of heavy rain pelting my cheeks like stones. I fall to the floor and crumble into myself, trying to put the pieces of my messed up life back into a structured order.

Then I hear a knock on the door, followed by a series of locks being unchained, and I struggle to my feet wiping my face of stray tears and set my mouth and eyes to an expression void of emotion. A woman enters caring a basket of what appears to be medicines, bandages, and cloths but when I look closer at her features I shrink back in horror. Must I face all of them? The ones my father smashed the life out of by taking away their loved ones, I consider this as I look into the face of Mrs. Everdeen-Katniss' mother.

"Alright, let's take a look at how bad you are. Coin was pretty fierce on not giving you any of the Capitol's medicines to heal your wounds but well just see how bad of shape they are and go from there." Her tone was like a business woman, and I am just a client-or patient, I suppose.

"That's okay, I can take care of it myself. You don't have to." I waited for her to let out a sigh of relief and leave the room immediately, but she just stared at me with her mouth agape.

"Young lady, Capitol or not, you are not immune to infection. And by just looking at you those cuts on your cheek and arm will surely be infected by sunrise tomorrow, so with all do respect, just let me do my job." She sounds slightly annoyed and impatient so I look to the ground, avoiding her gaze.

"Well? Come on, sit up on this table and well take a look." Mrs. Everdeen waits for a response, only to be met with silence. "Girl, if you do not come to me I will come to you. Your choice."

"Yes ma'am," I whisper giving in, and make my way over to her acting like every step doesn't make me want to scream in agony. As I sit up on the table my shirt scratches against the flesh of my back and I grit my teeth.

"There, that was not so bad now was it?" Speak for yourself, I bet your back doesn't feel like there are flames burning red-hot on your very skin.

"So which would you like to do first, worst to not so bad, or visa versa?" Crap, I forgot she was going to look at my back. I wonder if the whipping made my whole back bleed, and covered the scars that ran in various patterns and directions down my back. Probably not likely, but a girl can hope. Right?

"Small stuff first," I said quickly, hoping to stall. Maybe she would not have to do my back. Yeah, and Coin and I were going to become best friends. Fat chance.

"Are you sure? Do you feel faint? I don't want you passing out from loosing too much blood from the wounds on your back." "I won't, I will be okay." Although I say this, I am not so sure but oh well.

It doesn't take her nearly as long as I thought it would to tend to the cuts on my cheek and arms, and now she is hovering over my back. "Do you have a particular attachment to this shirt?" What a strange question to ask, but I shake my head to answer her. "Good because we are most likely going to have to cut it off of you to get to wounds and make sure not to reopen any excessively bleeding cuts. Now lay down on the table, on you stomach. Obviously."

I hesitate but do as I am told. However, before lying down I look at her for once and speak carefully. "Um...it is not going to be pretty. I-" I bite my lip searching for the correct words to say in explanation.

"Well, of course, it is not going to be pretty. You just got practically beat to death, it was a miracle you did not fall unconscious. But I have seen worse, believe me. Besides I have had a lot of practice." I believed her but she was still going to wonder where I got all the scars. I stretched my body out as she cut away the fabric to reveal the exposed flesh of my back. I hear her intake a breathe and weakly hope it is because the wounds are so deep they are horrible to look at.

"Ww-wh-...H-how did you get all these scars? I thought the Capitol was suppose to have excellent medicine. And you are supposely so...'civilized'." I sigh and do not answer her, hoping she would drop the subject and proceed to heal the wounds on my back. She seemed to have got the message but muttered to herself on occasion.

"No wonder you did not cry out, or fall unconscious." Mrs. Everdeen spoke in a tone that hinted of pity and bewilderment, like she was caring for an abused animal. "Yeah, well, I have had a lot of practice," I mutter, repeating the statement she had said when told me she could handle looking at my back. Then I press my lips together, feeling myself grow faint from the loss of blood before everything goes dark.


	5. Chapter 5 Hate Me Fixed!

**I do not own the**_** Hunger Games!**_

**So I actually did mess up chapters 5 and 11, they where for my other story. I am SO sorry! Thank you to **_**bbymojo**_** who righted my wrong! **

**Athena's POV:**

I wake and the shooting pain in my back is violent and brings back all of todays-or maybe yesterdays?-events like a bucket of ice-cold water soaking me, chilling me to the bone.

"You probably shouldn't get up, yet." I practically fall over in surprise at the masculine voice and turn my face to stare into the bright eyes of Peeta, who is sitting in a nearby chair and silently watching me. We just stare at each other for a long moment, unable to think of a thing to say.

"What you did for your sister was...honorable, not many from the Capitol would risk their own skins to save another. And I have been around the Capitol a lot," Peeta says with those blue eyes cutting through my soul.

"I know, you are Peeta Mellark." My words fall, I feel the rise in me to push away from this conversation, to get far away from this man who I owe for the death of his entire family and district. Peeta looks at me, as if puzzled by my words. But why would he be puzzled? Surely he knows I am a Snow, the daughter of the person who slaughtered everyone he held closely and destroyed his life.

"Yes. And you are Athena Snow, except I just discovered that myself, I did not know Snow even had a family-aside from a granddaughter."

"My father always made us watch the Games as if it was some important historical event that would impact on our futures, turns out he was right but I would never tell him that." Distantly I think of the granddaughter he spoke of but come up short, not knowing the answer.

"Why not? Family is family, my mother was horrible to me-to everyone-but I still loved her."

"My father is a monster. Your mother-who, by the way, is dead because of my father and my kind-did not go around killing innocent people. Did she?" I watch as Peeta's face hardens at my words. Good, he should hate me, it would be unhealthy otherwise.

"No, she did not. Has anyone ever told you that you are hard to have a conversation with? I thought you Capitol people were suppose to be all sunshine and feathers, ignorant of other peoples pain but never being downright vicious to end a conversation."

"Was my father all 'sunshine and feathers'? Of course not, he is more of a poisonous rose that revels in the bloodshed he causes. As his daughter, and not a child, why would you expect me to be any different?"

"You see, right there. All I said was that you were different from the other's in the Capitol, and you remark on how awful you are expected to be because of your father. Are you determined for us to hate you?"

"All I asked was to be put in your Games to protect my sister, not to be analyzed for my actions. I stood by while your district, and may others, were cleaned of all life. I am a bystander to your family and friends deaths; why shouldn't you despise my very existence?"

"If that is the case, shouldn't I hate your sister too? Despise her existence by association?"

"No," I say my tone growing soft at the mention of Pompeia. Peeta looks at me with questions on his lips, and those blue eyes searching mine from something indescribable. "Why not?" He whispers, watching me carefully.

"Because she has never watched the Games, I have protected her every way and every minute that I can. Because Pompeia is six-years-old and doesn't know anything except to love and be loved, she is just an innocent child." I watch Peeta's face soften, and quickly put a sour to my words.

"And she is nothing like me, or my father." I say coldly. Peeta's reaction is instant, he narrows his eyes at me with his mouth drawn in a thin line. "And does she have that many scars on her back as well? Or is that just you?" I feel my face pale at his words, but quickly take control.

"No, she doesn't. It was an accident. I fell into some chickens when I was young, completely tore my back to shreds." I lied, quickly, and wondered if he would call me out on my bluff.

"Chickens? Those scars are way too deep and lengthy to be from just a couple birds." He squints his eyes at me, turning them into blue daggers as he waits for my response.

"Have you ever seen mutated chickens before? Because I have and they are not great to be around." And the lies just keep on coming. Peeta looks at me with an expression of disbelief.

"Is that why you remained conscious and did not cry out once, even after sixty-five lashes? Or is that because of the _chickens_ too." His voice was beginning to rise, growing angry as his hands curled into fists. I just stare at him, shocked. Why would it matter how my body became damaged? It is not as if he cares, why should he?

"I do not appreciate being lied to," Peeta says with his voice trembling with emotion. I look at him in surprise and voice my thoughts, wondering what is happening. "Why does it matter? I am going to die anyway. I am sure even you know that no one would dare let me live for long. Let alone win."

"Is that what you want? To have a way out and die, to be a coward and leave your sister alone to fight us with your father by her side." My hands curl into fists at his words, and I look menacingly at him before realizing I am trapped. I hang my head in defeat.

"What is it you want? How can I ensure my sister's safety? I will do anything." My hands tremble at the thought of my sister standing alone at the hands of my father.

"Win," Peeta says simply and I look up at him in shock. Win? He cannot be serious, no one would ever allow it, and there are many in the Capitol that are twice my size in height and more than that in concerns of weight.

"That could never happen, you know that as well as I do. It is just a matter of time before President Coin kills me, she would of today if you had not stopped her. Besides, why the hell would you want me to win? That is a slap in the face to the people in your district, not to mention yourself. To let the daughter of the man that destroyed everything remain victorious, you have lost because of me too." I look at him like he is insane because he clearly is, all that yearning for Katniss must have driven him over the edge.

"Because you did not have control over your father, you're just one girl who was kept quiet to protect her sister. And this whole thing is hypocritical. To slaughter the children of the people who committed the same crime, to set an example of their children is just like what they did. And in doing so also, you become just like them." His tone is passionate and I can tell why my father had once feared this man, not as a person but for the why he can sway an audience.

"But why me? Why don't you get some nice boy or girl who is not despised by everyone in your district? Because if you think people are going to be okay with what you are saying you are in for a big surprise, or did I not spell it out for you clear enough. They. Hate. Me. And _want to see me dead_." I am practically yelling at him by this point; honestly I thought he would understand, clearly I was wrong.

"No, the only real person that is controlling all of this is Coin and if I can get others on my side then we could have a chance. And you are the only one that I know for sure hates your father," he says confidently.

"What make you think I am not lying to you, that I am not actually plotting with my father to overthrow you?" Seriously, that is what I said, as if I ever want to be near his bloody-rose infested body for more than a second.

Peeta looks at me for a long moment, watching my reaction or there lack of because I have wiped my face clean of emotion. "You would never risk such a ploy when your sister would be dangling on the edge of a very thin rope, and you already proved you would do anything for your sister. And with that in mind..." Peeta rises from his seat and towers over me for a moment before walking out of the room. How strange. However he is right, I would do anything to protect my sister.


	6. Chapter 6 No apologies

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**Athena's POV:**

I am taken to the large hall, where the district officials had taken us to when they were drawing names for the reaping, and I keep my eyes forward as I pass many familiar faces who look at me with curious stares. The man, one of Coin's men, unchains my wrists to stand next to the other tributes. Everyone is a blur and I do not pay close attention to who is representing what color, since we do not have districts in the Capitol we each given a color to symbolize our teams. My color is white. I figured they chose it on purpose to be cruelly ironic-because my last name is Snow-and for the fact that white always seems to stand out, so it will make me an easy target.

I look to the stage, waiting for Coin to make an announcement but I am surprised to find Peeta making his way onto the stage. "There has been an alteration on the rules of the Games. The victor of the Games will be granted a decade pass, which means that to the person who wins no one in their family can be called up in the reaping until at least a decade has passed. Thank you."

Peeta begins to walk away and I notice his blue eyes find me in the line of tributes. He meant to do this, it is what he planned because he wanted me to fight. And now that I have a chance to forever protect my sister I have to fight for my life, which is ridiculous because Coin will do whatever she can to see me dead.

**Peeta's POV:**

The crowd goes wild at my announcement and I walk away from the stage with a heavy heart, looking to Athena without meaning to, and seeing Katniss up in the stands looking down at me with a puzzled expression. I don't know what is about Athena...well, I kind of do but it would not be appealing to reveal it.

She is beautiful. There really is no denying that with her long, curly black hair, and pale skin that glitters like snow. And those shining topaz eyes, that darken to a honey brown when she is gets angry. However it is not her looks that draw me to her, it is a fire in her that reminds me of...I push away the thought and continue walking forward.

The second I enter the doors of the stands I am bombarded with demands and questions, but I shoulder my way through until I am stopped by Coin.

"What the _hell_ was that Peeta, a decade pass, why do you find they deserve such a thing?" Coin gets in my face with that dictating tone in her voice, as if she is in control of me.

"President Coin, I believe we decided long ago that we were a team. You, Katniss, Haymitch and I. We agreed to your request as long as we had a say in this." My tone is calm but inside a war is raging, and although I am not a very violent person but I want to hit her. Maybe it is the effects from when I was held captive by the Snow and the Capitol, I don't remember a lot from it but I occasionally get these urges of violence. It has calmed down since the years when I wanted to ruthlessly kill Katniss, but mostly because I hold a tight control over it.

Strangely though I have not found the urge to strangle Athena, which is kind of weird because I hate her father and would love more than anything to get my hands on him. Okay, Peeta, calm down. You're control is starting to slip and the last thing you want to do is take all your anger out on Coin, although, it is not as if she doesn't deserve a good crack in the face for all the havoc she is causing.

I sigh and walk away from Coin, who is sputtering in anger and frustration. I need to bake or paint, do something to keep my hands from trembling in rage-I need to calm myself. Closing myself in my room, I intend to do just that and pick up my paints and supplies when I hear a hesitant knock on the door.

"The doors open," I say while attempting to keep the annoyance out of my tone, failing slightly

Katniss, she is standing in the doorway with a weary expression on her face but relaxes a bit once I gesture her forward-telling her it is okay to come in. "Peeta..." She does not seemed to know what to do with her hands, the hands Gale has been grasping to many times to count in order to stabilize her, or at least that is what I'd like to believe. "What you are trying to do, I do not think it is going to work, too many of our people hate the Capitol." Katniss is deliberately refusing to meet my eyes as she speaks, keeping her eyes roaming in constant movement as if she finds the room fascinating. But I know differently, it has been tense and awkward since she chose to be with Gale, and I know she feels guilt because she thinks she owes me so much.

"Katniss. I understand your concern, and I thank you for it, but I am convinced it is just Coin that feels this whole thing is right. And her army of muscled followers will do anything for their captain, no matter how wrong it is. But you cannot honestly tell me you think this-this abomination is for the good of our people. If that were the case, what makes us any better than they are? Or were." I look at her, trying to get her to look me in the eyes and stop being so damn stubborn.

"I'm sorry Peeta, I really am, I try to see it that way but all I see is Prim. What they did to her, and all I want is for them to feel what I feel, to lose the most precious thing-person-in their lives and finally understand all the pain that they have cost." Katniss curls her hands into fists as she finishes her sentence, gritting her teeth in attempt to repress the memory of her sister's death and shaking at the failed attempt.

I get up, walking over to her, and open up my arms to embrace her as tears form in her eyes. I see the pain in Katniss' eyes as she tries to resist my comforting arms, than finally caves to bury her face in my chest.

"I keep having nightmares about Prim dying like Rue did, then like Mags in the poison mist, and followed by visions of her getting caught in the netting to die a slow death without me there to protect her. I see Snow standing over her like the boy from District 3 stood over Rue before I speared him, but I do not get the chance to kill Snow because the people of the Capitol surround him in a force-field of protection-like a barrier that is impossible for me to reach." I hold her against me as she shakes, sobbing. Her and I may not share love like Gale and her but we certainly share this, the time in the arena and the nightmares that plague us when we close our eyes at night.

"Shh, Katniss. I know but you cannot keep holding it in, it's eating you up inside. I am not going to lie to you, it is painful, but I am here. Always. Just let me help you, I know you are with Gale and that is okay, but I am still here as a friend. I will always be here to help shoulder the burden of what happened in the arena, loses, and every fear you conceal in your heart." Katniss is looking into my eyes now with tears streaking her fiery face, the face that refuses to cry or show weakness until behind closed doors.

"Haymitch was right-is right-I never could have deserved you," Katniss says biting her lip to get her emotions under control. "I am so sorry, Peeta."

"No. No apologies, Katniss. The love you feel for Gale-it is okay-I am okay, but I am here as a friend for you. You are not alone. Alright? Do you understand?" I search Katniss' eyes as another tear rolls down her cheek and she nods, slowly.

I tighten my arms around her and feel her beating heart against my chest, losing the hope that one day it would be mine to keep.


	7. Chapter 7Mentor

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**Katniss' POV: **

I felt an instant calm being back in Peeta's embrace, but I also knew it was awful of me to allow him to hold me while he still has feelings for me. So, wiping the tears from my face, I pulled back from Peeta as a knock sounded on the door.

"Yes?" Peeta's voice rang out with an air of calmness but I see him roll his eyes in annoyance. The door swings open to reveal Coin who storms in looking like she has a sense of purpose, as she always seemed to do.

"Good, both of you are here. I need to speak to you about the tributes because although Peeta has given them a reason to fight for their lives, they do not have a clue where to even begin in fighting strategies." Coin looks from Peeta to me, expecting a response, but I have no idea what it is she wants to hear and it seems Peeta does not either. Unless he is being intentionally silent because of the spat he had with Coin, which is very likely. And a thick silence falls around us.

"Well?" Coin says impatiently, raising an eyebrow at us. Peeta's mouth straightens into a hard line, and he folds his arms. "Well, what? What do you want us to do about the fact that they do not know how to fight? Isn't that your concern? Seeing as you are promoting this bloodshed to happen."

Coin stares at Peeta for a long moment, crossing her arms in defiance. "Why, as a matter of fact, it is all of our concern. Seeing as we are a team, are we not Peeta?" Peeta opens his mouth as if to object but closes it with a quick snap.

"That's what I thought," Coin says narrowing her eyes at Peeta before turning to me. "Katniss, I want you and Peeta to pick a team, or color, and teach them how to fight in order to prepare them for the Games. Consider yourselves mentors, like Haymitch was for you."

My stomach drops at the thought of preparing a person to commit suicide, but I hold my head high and continue to look at Coin in curiosity. Peeta, however, found this news unfitting and toppled over a nearby chair as her advanced towards Coin. "You cannot be serious. How hypocritical can you get, Coin?"

"Not hypocritical, my dear boy, I am only doing what is right. Showing these people they no longer own us because now the tables have turned, and they are just a piece in our Games." Once the words left her mouth Peeta looked at me in betrayal, for that was a deep confession he had told me long ago-during a time when we first entered the Hunger Games years ago. However, I did not look at him because I was wondering how it was that Coin knew about that statement because I sure as hell never told her.

And then I push the thought away, thinking of making the Capitol feel the way we have and for them to experience and understand the pain we send below. Because that vengeful feeling conquers all and I will destroy everything over my aching heart. For Prim.

**Athena's POV:**

I look at my opponents and pick out ones that I know personally, the two from brown are brother and sister who graduated from the Capitol prep school a year above me-Arria is twenty-one now while her brother, Anthony, should be closing in on twenty-three. Another boy, Julius, is a wicked boy of thirteen; he use to play tricks on my sister that caused her to come home crying, but I put a stop to that long ago. Him and his female teammate, who looks about sixteen, have the color green. And lastly my own teammate who shares with me the color of white, a hulking man with skin that glows bright orange in contrast of the white-he appears to be in his early twenties, possibly nineteen.

I count the vaguely familiar faces and sort out the various colors and there are ten of us-brown, green, blue, red, grey, and white. And the ages range from as young as thirteen to as old as twenty-five, small and delicate-looking to tall and built like an ox.

All the Capitol tributes are looking at each other, trying to decipher the words Peeta had dropped on them like a huge weight thrown violently from the sky, and they begin to throw glares in my direction. Like I told Peeta to make that adjustment to the rules. Yeah, right.

Suddenly the tributes stares are deflected from me to view the person making their way to the stage, President Coin.

"Silence, you vermin!" Coin's scream echoes through out the hall as an instant silence breezes over the crowd. "Good, now, I will introduce the mentors to the Games. Each team, who has been given a color, will be chosen by two mentors. So when I call them to the stage you shall remain quiet." There was a hinting of the words "or else" that was implied and everyone shut up completely.

"Cressida and Paylor," She yells out. They pick the brother and sister from brown. Next up is Finnick Odair, a former victor from the Games, and a woman named Annie. Finnick whispers furiously next to Coin's ear and she grumbles but seems to accept his request, then he walks over-alone-to the blue team.

"Plutarch and Gale," she announces and I can picture Katniss' face hardening at the sight of her boy next to the green team of the Capitol. Coin claps her hands together and smiles viciously.

"Now you are in for a real treat, consider yourselves lucky to have them and as a team, Katniss and Peeta," Coin yells and they make their way on the stage. Katniss seems to be wiped clean of every emotion and walks in a trance-like state next to the grey team, which is next to Gale and the blue team. However Peeta shakes his head at Katniss, which rewards his a look of curiosity from her and she frowns. And then he walks across the stage, with his cane taping on the floor dramatically, and over to the white team where he plants his feet firmly...right next to me.

Katniss, confused, walks over to Peeta silently but takes her place next to him. And then she sees me and a look of outrage paints her face as she turns on Peeta, whispering closely to his ear words that are surely unpleasant. Meanwhile Coin grits her teeth but continues forward, giving Johanna and Haymitch the red team and awarding Enobaria and Beetee with grey.

I look up at Peeta in disbelief, flabbergasted that he wanted to go through with his plan. However instead of Peeta's bright blue eyes I am met with the cold grey eyes of Katniss Everdeen, who stares at me with a mix of mild interest and hatred. And realize this war is all but over, as the hope in me begins to slowly die.


	8. Chapter 8Separate

**I do not own **_**The Hunger Games!**_

**Peeta's POV:**

I stare ahead into the crowd not looking at Katniss as she assaults me with words filled with anger, telling me she is going to spend all her time on the boy and refusing to even acknowledge Athena's existence.

"I should have know you would try and pull something like this, you self-righteous-. God Peeta, you could have picked anyone. _Anyone_. But you just had to pick the team with Snow on it, well I will not allow her to win. You understand that, right? I am spending all my time training the boy, or more like man, but it will be a cold day in Hell before I let the man's daughter-who killed _my sister_-win and be victorious." Katniss is overflowing with anger, and I feel if she had her bow and arrows she'd likely shoot me on sight. Thankfully, she doesn't.

"Fine. Then I will spend my time with Athena, maybe it will be better that way." Even saying the words I hear my uncertainty because I know in order to keep Athena alive I am going to need Katniss.

"_Athena_? You know that things _name_? Peeta, you cannot be serious..." She trails off, biting her lip as she looks at me. I turn, staring into those grey eyes, the very eyes I have fantasized over so many times. "I thought you would understand why she is even in this, or have you forgotten that her name was not the one called? Because looking in the crowd now I see the little girl who was and I cannot stomach looking at her, it makes me sick to think Coin would allow her to even be selected as a tribute."

Katniss' eyes go into the crowd and find the tiny girl almost immediately, all to real with her wide blue eyes and tearful face-framed by a tangled head of blonde. Looking at her I cannot help but think of Primrose, only a lot younger, and wonder if Katniss is thinking it too. I see her bite her lip and the pain enter her eyes, silently signaling to me that she is thinking just that.

"Peeta..." Katniss' voice is heartbreaking and I accept it, I will have to do this alone. "It's okay Katniss, I am not asking you to help mentor Athena. I just thought I would tell you the reason I want her to win, that and the fact that she hates Snow a lot more than we ever could." My words are careful, calm and reassuring. I begin to walk away to leave Katniss to her thoughts but she stops me.

"Peeta," She says distracted by some thought. I look at her, silently hoping she has changed her mind. "Be careful. You don't know this girl and I know how you are, but just...be careful. I don't want to see you get hurt." I stare at her, without an expression on my face, and hear the implication of her words. She does not want me to experience anymore hurt than I already have, but I have let that go so that is why I turn and walk out the door.

**Athena's POV:**

They want to train us, like animals before they let us free to slaughter on another. I cannot blame them for wanting to see a little of our Capitol blood spilled on the ground, the Capitol's children fighting each other to the death before the eyes of our families-like so many of their children.

Many of us in the Capitol have strength and power, along with various talents, the men are especially given the upper hand in the strength and power category. Females in our society did whatever they could to keep their bodies slim and young, most of the time turning themselves frail in the process. However, as I peer around me at the other girls, I notice they all seem fairly healthy except the one from the blue team-I vaguely remember her name beginning with a C-and see the skin of her face pulled tight over her sunken cheekbones, a sure sign of plastic surgery overexertion. I remember her from a dinner my father had a few years ago, where all the big-shots from the Games sat around drinking from colorful drinks and smelling like alcohol while they described their favorite parts of the Hunger Games in dramatic, jerky movements.

The girl-Cecilia-I recall now, is the daughter of one of the Head Gamekeeper's. In fact, as I look around the room, I notice every ones parents were majorly involved in the Games and I imagine it is not just a coincidence. The smile spread on President Coin's face proves my theory, and I am thankful my sister is not apart of this revenge that is fueled by the district's hate.

All of us, decked out in our trademark colors, file into a room to wait to be claimed by our mentors so we can start preparing to train to kill on another. I peer to my right and find my teammate taking his place beside me, the contrast of his orange bulky skin contrasting with the white of his clothing. Staring at him with slight interest, I still find myself unable to remember ever meeting him. Meanwhile he stares ahead, making a point of not acknowledging my existence so I turn away-silently wondering if he will be the one to kill me.

"We have never met," a husky voice says, and I practically jump in surprise when I realize it is my partner talking to me. "But I know who you are, of course, and your father and mine worked together." His brown eyes watch my face in attempt to gouge my reaction, waiting for a part of me to break so he can get inside my head.

"Oh," I say, simply while locking eyes with him-making sure I am not the one to break contact to show how much I do not fear him. In reaction, he smiles a grin that brightens his young face. "My name is Brutus. I just thought you would like to know the name of the man that will kill you in the arena, the man that will be victorious."

I am startled by his bluntness, simply look at him with my mouth agape before snapping out of my astonishment and narrowing my eyes in an icy gaze. "Look Bruno-" "Brutus," he says gruffly, interrupting me with the correction. Of course I know what his name is but I did not want him to realize that so I shot for injuring his ego a bit.

"Right. Well, just so you know, you have a smudge on your face." Brutus' one hand immediately goes up to his face while the other ruffles his already messy bluish-black hair, as if he is being nonchalant and not self-conscious. Then, seeming to realize my play on his shallow insecurities, Brutus narrows his eyes at me before forcing a smile at me.

"Wow, your father was right. Athena, you really are an uncivilized little bitc-" His words are cut short by the booming sound of the doors opening, and our mentors have arrived. I find Peeta's face in the mass of district faces with Katniss taking her place at his side and letting her frigid gaze fall on me, a scowl appearing on her face as she notices me looking at Peeta.

I turn away-showing no emotion on my face-and find my eyes drawn to Peeta's cutting blue gaze, for some reason I feel heat rise in my cheeks and with a shock I realize I am blushing. I scowl at the ground, attempting to pull myself together. Athena Snow does _not_ blush. For anyone. Period.

I hear a low chuckle and look up to see that Peeta is still looking at me with his face tilted to the side in curiosity as he laughs quietly, a low rumble that quakes his body in a slight tremor. The blueness cuts through me and I can help but be captured by his calculating eyes, until the realization dawns on me that he is analyzing me. And laughing.

Now that is one thing that still remains a mystery; why did this man still have interest in me? Was it some secret plot that the district planned out in order to dramatize the events of our demise as we did theirs so many times?

"Hey, Princess." The sound of Brutus' voice breaks me out of my muddled thoughts like the quick snap of a twig. I look to the insulting, pompous creature next to me and scowl.

"I am not a princess," I say calmly, narrowing my eyes into slits. Brutus grins and holds up his hands as if to ward me off, like I am some type of vicious animal that needs to be calmed before it decides to savagely attack.

"Whatever you say, princess, but we are being called over to follow our mentors. Just thought I would let you know since your weak mind seemed to be...elsewhere." I push past him without a word, intentionally ignoring him as he follows behind me.

We follow Peeta and Katniss to a room that I vaguely remember as being a previous training room, the open space is filled with weight machines, ropes hanging from the ceiling, punching bags, a sword center, an artry center, and various other training sectors.

"You," Katniss says in a detached voice, turning to face Brutus and gain his attention. "You will be with me for now, and if Peeta decides to help you too later than that is his choice. Come with me."

Katniss does not even glance in my direction-walking away with her head held high-and Brutus follows her after smirking at me and lunging in my direct, attempting to intimidate me. And failing, miserably, because I do not have any reaction to him getting in my face as I stare at him with a bored expression.

"Catch you later, princess." Brutus walks away and I scowl at his back as he makes his way over to the artery sector where Katniss waits, arms folded and scowling at the floor in defiance.

"Friend of yours?" Peeta's voice shatters my angry thoughts, I peer up into his hardened blue eyes and follow his gaze to Brutus-who is flexing his muscles, and winking at me, as he pulls back the string of the bow and aiming the arrow.

"Yeah, right. Hardly." I laugh, bitterly, as I look at the arrogant fool trying to impress Katniss with his "skills" while Katniss just appears bored and slightly disgusted by the whole display. I turn back to look at Peeta and find him staring at me, a frown on his handsome face. Wait. Did I just call him handsome? Oh god, what is going on with me? Get it together, Athena.

"Shall we begin?" I suggest to the floor, and look up at Peeta to see him nodding silently in agreement. "Yes. Do you have any talents?" I raise my eyebrows at his question, and his mouth turns up in an amused smile. "Talents. Are you good at hand-to-hand combat, throwing knives, decorating cakes? Anything."

"I know what talents are," I reply defensively, and cut my gaze to him sideways. "I just do not know if have any worth mentioning. Peeta smiles and tilts his head to the side again as if I said something so interesting. Suddenly a booming sound echoes throughout the room and I jump, looking around notice Katniss and Brutus are no longer present.

"Katniss and I are working with you and Brutus seperately," Peeta explains in a matter-of-fact tone. Separately? Why would do that? Oh, right. Dumb question. Katniss probably vomits at the thought of training me, I know I would if I was in her position.

"Where would you like to start? The weights, or maybe ropes. You could probably use some upper-body strength improvement." The corners of Peeta's mouth turn up slightly but he tries to hold back a smile. I look at him in bewilderment, not believing he was actually mocking me.

"What is _that_ suppose to mean? I could easily take you," I bluff with a voice full of pride and determination. In reaction, Peeta laughs and reaches towards me.

"Yes I can definitely see that, I mean just look at these arms." His hand pushes against my bicep and my skin tingles from his warm touch, however, I am insulted and scowl at him. "I could kill you in a second, Mellark."

"Is that so? Please, do show me." Peeta shrugs off his jacket and I take in the muscle beneath the strained shirt that tightly hugs his strong arms, chest, and abdominal muscles. I tear my gaze away, trying to get ahold of myself, because it is dangerous for me to look at him like that. Peeta and I are from different worlds, practically a different species, and I am one of the most hated among his kind. Besides...he would never even think to look at me the way I was looking at him right now, I was more like a little insect he took interest in and has not decided yet to squash.

There is a long pause and I hear footsteps stomping around above our heads, I just want to pull myself from this situation with Peeta but he seems to calculate my actions differently.

"Or are you too afraid, Snow? I mean that is perfectly understandab-"

"I am not. Afraid. Of you," I emphasis and stare at him coldly. Scared? No. I am terrified. Looking at him, Peeta could grind me into the ground and leave in a bloody heap but he would also have to catch me first. However his size compared to mine was not what I feared, it was being close to him, trusting myself not to react to my reflexes while the fear of being overpowered ate away at my insides.

"So then why are we still talking? Bring it." The confidence flows off of him in waves and he gets into a basic fighting stance-feet grounded to the floor, slightly apart, with his body and eyes reacting to my slightest movements.

I hate fighting, not because I am the type that cringes at the thought of breaking a nail or anything but mostly because I am good at it. Well, lets face it, anyone would be good at fighting if they were force to train every day of their life practically since they began to crawl. My father thought it was a wonderful idea, especially when he was angry and wanted find a release by kicking my butt senseless. However, over the past couple years he put a stop to my training when I began to strike back with a force that caused him to drop to the floor.

By that point the whippings usually begin to take place. Although I enjoyed beating my father in our sessions years ago, I do not find enjoyment in the thought of bringing someone else harm because of senseless reasons.

Suddenly, after a tense long pause, Peeta lunges at me and stunned I barely have time to intake my breathe before we tumble onto the floor and I get the wind knocked out of me. His weight is immense, an impacting blow that puts pressure on my chest and clogs up my air supply. I squirm beneath him in attempt to escape but my attempts are useless and his body pins me to the cold ground, his hands capturing my arms-placing them over my head-while jamming his knees into my legs in order to keep me still. And he looks down at his skilled entrapment, admiring his domineering technique with a slight smile tugging at his lips.

I stare into his face and find myself frozen, stunned and overwhelmed by his closeness. Strands of blonde fall into his bright blue eyes and I find the urge to reach my hand up and push them back from his face. However, thankfully, my arms are restrained in Peeta's strong grip and I simply look at him as my chest heaves up and down in anticipation. Meanwhile I feel Peeta's heart beating strong against my own, which has came to such a full sprint of wild fluttering that I would not have been surprised if it decided to fly out of the containment of my flesh.

The weight of him is profound but I suddenly realize the warmth of his flesh against my own, the delicious heat wraps around my normally cold skin like a comforting blanket that has been recently warmed. And then Peeta's gaze travels up to meet my own and becomes slightly startled, as if he just realized I was still there with him. With the ocean filling his eyes he blinks at me curiously with an intense look on his face and I wonder when he is going to get off of me. Yet, secretly, I wish to stay like this for just a few moments longer.

Blinking-the thought of _wanting_ Peeta's closeness and encouraging it was practically laughable, and I needed to squash the thought before it full processed into my brain. What was happening to me? I could not develop feelings for this man, it was unthinkable. Impossible.

"Peeta," I breathe out his name in a raspy tone, the strain of my breathing becoming very obvious. In reaction, he lets out a breathe and leans closer to me-a scent of something warm and sweet mingles in my senses as I stare at him, wide-eyed.

"Are you afraid now, Miss Snow?" he asks me through heavy-lidded eyes, and I cannot help but be very much aware of how near his lips sweet and warm scent kisses my lips is so gentle and overwhelming that if I were to part my lips I am certain I would taste the delicious aroma on my tongue. But I don't. Because surly this is all a game, a ploy on my emotions, and a plot to mess with my head.

"No," I say in determination but it comes out a hoarse whisper, weak and strained. Though it does get the point across because Peeta looks at me in interest, wondering what I am thinking. "But...you are cutting off my air supply." Peeta's eyes widen a fraction and he loosens his grip and picks himself up off me, the pressured weight on my chest being immediately released.

"Sorry," he mumbles, looking down at the floor, then stands and looks down at me with a smirk of confidence. "But I was right. You need to work on your strength because many of the male tributes appear to be just as strong as I am, but they will not be allowing you the chance to breathe."

I stare up at him with what was most likely a dazed expression, my mind clouded my his presence while dreading the feelings dwelling inside of me because I am beginning to like my sworn enemy-a man from the district who wants me dead.

**Sooo, I would really like to know what everyone thinks? Do I need some improvement, do you like it? Ideas? Review! Please. =]**


	9. Chapter 9 You Can Say That Again

**I do not own the Hunger Games! Enjoy =]**

**Peeta's POV:**

I spotted Athena as she lifted the bench press, watching as the muscles in her slim arms struggle with the weight I put on the bar-80 pounds. Despite all her frigidness and attempts at making me hate her, her character was actually kind of...cute. Wait. Well, maybe not cute-I am fairly certain she would get angry if I said that to her-but she was just so...I don't know.

Athena huffs out a mouthful of air trying to blow strands of her hair from her eyes but it just falls right back into her eyes, and without thinking my hand comes out and brushes the offending strands from her eyes. We both freeze, Athena's hands suspended up in the air-lifting the weights-while my fingers linger on the soft skin of her temple. Topaz eyes lock onto my own, curious and surprised, with her mouth going slightly agape and everything around us becoming surreal.

All at once, time breaks free of its restrains-Athena's grip loosens on the bar, causing the weights to fall, and I quickly jerked out my hands to catch it before it descends on her. My hands catch the cold, hard object just inches away from Athena's throat and she stares at it with wide-set eyes, then flicks a stunned look at me.

"Well, that was close," I say in a raspy tone, and she nods her head slowly with a bewildered look still on her face. "You can say that again," Athena replies softly.

"Well, that was close." Athena stares at me and tries to hold back a smile, unsuccessfully. I smirk at her and place the bar back on the stand, then walk over to the punching bags-putting on the wrappings to protect your hands while you punch the rough bag.

"How about we try something a bit more basic?" It is more of a rhetorical question so Athena walks over and accepts the wrappings with careful hands before coming up beside me facing the punching bag.

"Have you ever done any fighting training?" My question causes Athena to shoot me a weird look and nodded, while looking around the room with a distant expression on her face.

"Yes, a little." Her voice hints at something more but when I look over at her in interest she seems determined not to meet my eyes, a clear sign that she does not want to say more. I decide to drop the subject and begin striking at the bag in various patterns, looking over to see if Athena was going join in but she was simply staring at the bag-seeming to be deep in thought.

I am going over various combinations when I hear Athena begin punching the bag with perfect combinations of jab, right upper-cut, left hook, right cross, and a kick that slams the bag backwards. I look over at her with my mouth slightly agape and questions on my lips but Athena is just staring at the bag with a defiant expression, and fists clenched at her sides. Then she walks away from the punching bag sector, traveling passed the rope tying section to the fire starting section with her hands still clenched.

"So, I will take that as we are done training for you to fight?" I mumble, making my way over to where is she is knelt down and trying to construct a fire. After spending a few tense moments helping her build various fires Athena's temper begins to cool and relax, until I decide out next section to go to should be the rope-climbing section.

I grab the rope and look to Athena while passing it back in forth between my hands, and notice her expression has turned weary as she peers upward-biting her lip.

"Problem, Miss Snow?" I ask her, raising an eyebrow. Her topaz eyes cut through me as she remains silent for a long moment, seeming to be hesitant in answering.

"I-um...can we do something else, please?" Athena bites her lip again, looking down at the ground. A smile creeps up on my face at her nervousness, it is a rare occurrence to find have someone be hesitant around me because Katniss and the rest of the district are usually so blunt about everything.

She begins to walk away to another sector but I grab her arm, momentarily stopping her, and place my hands on both her shoulders to make her face me. "Hey, what is it? You have to tell me if there is a problem because if you are going to win this thing we have to train you the best we possibly can."

"Nothing, okay?" Her voice is edged with agitation, she brushes off my hands before turning and walking away.

I feel the irritation wafting off my body and squint at her, wondering what secrets Athena is keeping hidden deep inside and whether they will pose as a threat to the district or not. I feel the paranoia begin to overtake me and-for the first time-I feel like lashing out at Athena. And I knew the next words I shot at her retreating back were not going to be pleasant.

"Fine. Don't, I am probably wasting my time anyway. Maybe everyone is right, that a Capitol person is nothing but a lying, conniving, manipulative piece of scum that is no better to us than the dirt we tread in all the war and slaughter we have endured from your kind." I feel the anger welled up inside me and I notice Athena has stopped walking, however, she did not turn around to meet my rage-filled eyes.

"Maybe I should just let you go out there and die just like everyone else, setting an example for the Capitol to show them what it looks and feels like to watch the people you know and love die." I continue to fire hateful words at her back, which has remained in posture, and I realize my anger will not cease until I watch her crumble. I take a step closer to her-with hands clenched-and hiss into her ear the words that set the bar.

"You think you are so tough with all your coldness and lack of emotions, but what if I let your sister meet the same fate as my family-only slower and a hell of a lot more painful. Would you sing out your secrets like a mockingjay then? Or would you just stand by and watch, like a coward. The apple does not fall far from the tree." I notice Athena's back stiffen and she slowly turns around to look at me with a numb expression, looking into her eyes all I see is deadness in the darkened brown-rimmed with gold-depths.

A hushed silence falls over us and fills the room as we stand there staring at each other, Athena absorbing the words I used to try to break her down but not saying a single word. Then she nodded, walked slowly to the door, knocked firmly, and the door swung open to reveal one of Coin's men to bind Athena in chains and take her to her dungeon of a life.

The door closed with a profound bang, the sound echoing throughout the room, and just like that my anger fizzled away into nothing. I walked over to the mirrors lined up near the camouflage section and stared at myself, seeing nothing but a monster that was crafted by both the Capitol and the District. The paint was in my grasp, coating my palms with vivid red, and before I could even stop to think of where it came from I strike at my reflection.

The strong glass fractures but does not shatter to the floor, and I look at myself smeared with red. A monster that I have begun to hate, someone who wants to destroy because he has faced nothing but destruction all these years.

**So please, please, please, please tell me what you think? Reviews are always welcome!**


	10. Chapter 10 Afraid to fly

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games**_**!**

**A thank you to Cupcakelover56 for your supporting words! =]**

**Athena's POV:**

It was almost sunrise. I noticed the sky through the windows as I pick up the tray that been delivered to me-a canteen of water with a simple proportion of food: hard-looking bread, lumpy soup, an apple, and stale crackers. Opening the canteen I inhale with caution, peering inside and wondering if the district would poison me. I sniffed the contents once more and feel the scratchy sensation in my throat from lack of water and nourishment; frowning, I take a hesitant sip of the "water." The taste on my tongue is a bit gritty but I conclude that it is simply water, calculating after a slight pause that there is no poisonous burning rising in my throat, and take another sip.

Looking around the room it is not a hideous cell filled with dirt and darkness, instead it is worse because it is the rooms the district tributes where housed in before they were set up for slaughter. The room was complete with a cushiony bed, walk-in closet, bathroom, and balcony.

Suddenly, I feel the urge to look out on the balcony, to feel the wind on my face and breathe at least a little bit of freedom because the room felt like it was closing in on me. I open the doors and the sight of Capitol causes me to drop to my knees, while I become overwhelmed with feelings of dizziness and nausea. I estimate that I must be at least on the seventh floor and the drop below is so horrible that I begin to shake uncontrollably.

I close my eyes, inhaling deeply before letting out slow breathe's, and placing a shaky hand to my chest I try to calm my beating heart that feels like it is going to explode. I slide backwards until my back hits the doors of the balcony and put my head between my knees as I become sick with vertigo. In. Out . Athena, you will be okay. Just remember breathe, in and out.

I am afraid of heights. Some say that the fear of heights, or acrophobia, is common and brought on by some past trauma that has long ago been repressed or forgotten. However, I remember the particular reason with such clarity that it is would be almost unbelievable if it had not been so real.

It all began on my fifth birthday, my parents took me to the best restaurant in the whole Capitol, it was my father's idea and he thought I should begin to make public appearances. So with my mothers hand gently grasping mine, we made our way into the restaurant as my father greeted various officials of the Capitol and kissed the hands of their physically altered wives with his ridiculously puffy lips.

I was the birthday girl but it did not seem like I was being celebrated, it was all flashing camera's and fake smiles with my father as the ring master. We were seated at the best table in the whole restaurant-I recall the host bragging about only the best was to be offered to the President-and it contained the grandest view because it was so high up.

Then-just like it was yesterday-I remember it all happened at once. First, after we were seated, the crowd began chanting Happy Birthday and the biggest cake I had ever seen was passed throughout the crowd until it was set in front of me. Staring at the huge mass of frosted dough, my face lit up by the five glowing candles, and even then I knew the whole thing was not about me because it was all about President Snow and his adoring spectators. The candles were at the very top of the cake and even as I stood on tip-toe I could not reach the flames. Seeing me struggle, the audience felt it was the perfect photo opportunity and began chanting for my father to lift me up to the stars. My fathers hands were ice cold on my baby blue party dress as he lifted me up for the cameras with the crowd chanting for him to lift me higher. Higher.

The table we were at was on a balcony and as my father lifter me higher he began to back up until he hit the balcony's walls, I blew out the candles and he began to put me down but halfway to setting me on my feet he whispered to me. "Shall we give them a show worth remembering, my dear?" I could hear the cold smile in his voice, the smell roses mixing in the air. God, how I hated that awful smell.

My father still had me lifted up in the air but he "tripped" over a "crack" in the flooring, and suddenly I was falling over the balcony-plummeting to a slow, terrifying death. I remember the gasps of horror from the crowd, the strangled sobs, but most of all I remember the sound of my mother screaming as if she had already lost me.

It all happened so quickly, yet, in slow motion. The wind slashed at my face in a vicious assault as I fell with my arms flailing, searching for something-anything-to stop this torturous drive. Then my father's icy hand caught my wrist and I swung my other arm to have him catch the other one, which he did. However, when I peered into his face I saw the cruel smile I now know so well and cry out for him to save me. Daddy. I had begged for him to pull me up with both my eyes and my voice as I looked down at the five-hundred foot drop below me, but I was only met with a smile and the words ringing in my head. _Shall we put on a show, my dear?_ He had meant for that to happen, he had _made_ me fall, and he could just as easily let me slip from his grasp. One oops, one slip, and farewell Athena.

Instead, my father put on a show, he dragged me up then let me "accidently" fall before catching my wrists again. At that point I felt sick from the fear with tears streaming down my face as I swung in the breeze over the balcony like leaf free from its branch. And then, just like that, it was over. My father pulled me up with little effort, though he did make it seem like it took all of him to succeed, but that was all for show. My mother buried me in her arms, tucking me into her as if she wanted to hide me, and she probably did wish to hide me-from my father. She covered my face with kisses and I could see nothing but camera's flashing as we both cried because death had come so near that night, so close it had been merely a kiss away.

I remember looking up at my father and seeing him stand there by the balcony with all the lights flashing on him like a hero in all his glory. I remember him meeting my eyes and giving me a secret smile before winking at me, as if to say _Happy Birthday, Athena_. That was one of the first times I realized my father was a monster- because he made fears come alive, and I could never forget that.

I hear a clang and look up at the noise to see Peeta closing the balcony door, and I concentrate on the abashed look on his face while the shaking and the sickness being to subside. I breathe deeply and look out at the view of the Capitol, for once enjoying the setting from the safe distance of the ground and far from the edge. Finally, I can breathe.

Peeta sits down beside me and I continue to look at the changing world around me, while Peeta looks at me, opens his mouth, and then closes it again. I realize he is attempting to apologize but honestly what is the point? It is not as if I did not deserve the words he said to me, it was just a surprise hearing it come from his because it seemed like he had a little faith in me, but I suppose I am only to blame for such a foolish assumption.

"Look, Athena. I-" Peeta stumbles for the right words to say and bites his lip, which looks so soft and sweet that I just want to reach over and...

I shake my head, clearly I am going crazy, and this man is driving me there unless I can shake out the cobwebs of my muddled life.

"I should not have said that back in the training room yesterday," he said then bite his lip, wanting to say more but seeming to not find the correct words.

"Peeta," I say softly, looking out at the horizons breaks of orange, purple, and yellow coloring the sky. "You don't have to explain anything to me."

"But I do. Look Athena, I didn't mean to take out my anger on you and I just get these urges for destruction sometimes an-" I look at him, holding up my hand and shaking my head to stop him from saying more because the last thing he needs is to explain himself to the enemy. I did not understand this boy, he was too kind to me and I was not sure whether to be wary of his actions or begin to trust him.

"I am the _enemy_, Peeta. You are suppose to act like that around me, it is natural to hate me and and want me dead but-" I bite my lip to try and to think of a way to say what I need to nicely, but the only thing I could think of was to be direct with him. Peeta just stares at me with his eyebrow raised, patiently waiting for me to continue.

"But do not threaten my sister's life again. Ever. Alright?" My face is grave and serious as I stare at the ground, realizing I may have just made the biggest mistake by talking back to one of the main district officials.

Then I feel warmth on my chin, fingertips grazing my skin and gently lifting my face to meet his own, the sensation causing my face to fill with heat. Peeta's bright blue gaze invades my focus and I feel myself drawn closer to his sweet , warm breathe. Inhaling, I smell the faint scent of delicious bread and pastry on his fingertips and find myself wondering if a kiss from his lips would taste as the creations he so often makes.

I exhale the breathe I did not know I was holding, my breathe softly caressing Peeta's cheeks like a gentle summer breeze, and we both pull apart quickly in realizing our actions. We had been so close with our body heat mingling together in the cool morning air; yet, our minds had acted on their own accord as if they were two far away objects with intentions that were inappropriate to both the District and the Capitol.

Looking into Peeta's intense blue eyes I realize that there is something special about this man that smells of sweet pastries and seems to be cut from stone; however, he is so near in sight to me but too far away to touch.

**Peeta's POV:**

We sit in silence as the sun rises, lighting up the city with a mix of beams of pale yellow and what I only can describe as sunrise orange. The orange is my favorite color and I have tried to paint it so many times but it just never seems to be the right shade. Walking over to the edge of the balcony to peer closer to the sunlight, as if my nearness will grant me the ability to paint the secrets of the correct shading, and let out a soft sigh. A strange sensation heats my back that I am sure is not from the sun and I turn to meet Athena's peculiar topaz eyes, which are watching my every move with curiosity.

I turn away from her before the heat begins to rise in my cheeks at the memory of her being so near to me, so close that all I had to do was lean forward a little to claim her lips. I remember Katniss' warning of being careful around Athena but I cannot seem to break my interest in her, and with a sinking feeling in my stomach I begin to realize that I am falling for her. The idea seems so impossible because I barely know her, yet, I know it's true because the only one I have ever felt like this about was...Katniss.

In fact, that is what seemed to draw me to Athena-her fiery personality's likeness to Katniss'-but I also knew the two had their severe differences. Looking to the sky I wonder why it is I cannot develop feelings for normal, safe girls-not ones that lead a rebellion or are hated by my entire district. Yet, I believe I would not like to have it any other way because I just want-for once-to be happy and find the love that has been denied of me so many times.

"So why Athena?" I say suddenly, without thinking and turn to meet Athena's confused gaze. "Excuse me," she murmurs, more like a statement than a question, her voice clogged with bewilderment at my random question.

"The name, usually your kind are named some strange things-Caesar, Cinna, Portia, Effie...but I have never heard of an Athena." I look at her with interest but inside I am smacking myself for how stupid I sound; however, if Athena seemed to think I was lacking intelligence, she did not show it. Instead Athena just stared at me like I just grew an extra head, complete with additional limps and everything, and smiled slightly.

"Why were you named Peeta? Doesn't it have to do with the name your parents chose for you and not the what you think about it." Her reply quietly attempted to mock me but it was laced with hesitation, as if there was a story she was not sure she wanted to tell.

"True. But my parents worked as bakers so the name Peeta just came as an after thought," I say easily. Her smile widens a fraction as she stares at the ground, thinking, before whispering to herself so quietly I had to strain my ears to find her words in the breeze.

"So you really were named after bread." I laugh at her words and her eyes snap up to mine in mortification that I overheard her, and her pale cheeks blushed in embarrassment.

"I am believing that to be true, though I never did ask them the question directly, so why Athena?" Athena shakes her head as if she cannot believe I am asking such an absurd question, but holds up her hand when I begin to protest and explain the simplicity of the question.

"My mother," she hesitates briefly, looking to the sky for the correct words. "My mother was obsessed with Greek Mythology. She wanted to name me Eros, if I was a boy, or Aphrodite if I was a girl. Eros and Aphrodite are the god and goddess of love and beauty," Athena explained carefully.

"Let me guess. Snow didn't like that suggestion very much," I said to her. "No. He didn't. My mother said my father wanted to name his first born something with strength and power. So my mother set a compromise that if I was a boy I would be named Achilles, who was a Greek hero of the Trojan war and was the bravest fighter that was invincible on the battlefield. Also, if I was a girl, I would be named Athena-the goddess of war and wisdom."

"So you're named after the goddess of war, that must be pretty powerful, you must not be afraid of anything." My words cause her to look at me as if I am crazy, like a few extra arms have joined my second head appearance. "What?"

Athena shakes her head, slowly. "I am as much of a goddess of war as I am a goddess of love and beauty, which is no amount of either. And-" She pauses, biting her lip, and I step closer to her-grazing her cheek with my fingertips-to try to encourage her to continue.

Her topaz eyes cut through me like a knife through butter as my fingertips brush against her smooth skin, while I cannot help but want to venture the planes of her to discover if the rest of her flesh is as soft. Athena's lip quivers and her eyes skitter away from my own, but I right now I don't care if I am not suppose to be feeling this way.

"What are you afraid of Athena?" I ask, quietly, letting my hand drop from her face and fall to my side as her name passes my lips. She rises from the ground with shaking legs and peers out at the city, cautiously.

"I am afraid of a lot of things...but flying is definitely one of them," Athena whispers to the world before meeting my eyes, then she turns and walks into the room-closing the balcony door behind her.

**So what did you think? Review? please!**


	11. Chapter 11 What have I done? FIXED!

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games**_**!**

_**Cupcakelover56**_**: Thank you for the praise and the great idea of how to bring them closer, I was thinking something along those lines but the similarity of bad parent sounds a lot better. Thank you =]**

**This is the alteration to my messed up chapter 11, sorry again about the confusion.**

**Katniss' POV:**

"This is a bad idea," I say to Coin, and look around to find a few others who are sharing uneasy expressions. I look at Haymitch and he looks through the two way mirror monitors in each of the rooms of the gathered family members of each of the tributes, than nods in agreement.

"I'm with the mockingjay on this one, nothing good can come from this. Besides, what is the point?" Haymitch points at the screens, tapping the glass of the monitor to each of the rooms to emphasize his point.

"The point," Coin begins with irritation clear in her voice. "Is that we need to see how our little tributes handle being reunited with their families one last time before they die. Will they crack under the intense emotions and possibly unveil some very important secrets? Maybe. And that is why we must see." Haymitch attempts to protest this suggestion but Coin just waves him off, looking to one of her soldier's that is seated in front of the monitors. "Oh, good, right on schedule. Enlarge the monitor for room thirteen and make sure all the sound systems are working correctly, I want to be able to hear a pin drop in that room. Am I clear?"

"Crystal Captain-I mean President Coin," Coin's leading officer-I think his name starts with an H-types rapidly on the keys to set up the connections and causes the screen on room thirteen to blow up for everyone to see.

I don't have to look very hard at to notice the scared little girl in blonde braids waiting patiently in a chair next to President Snow, who is pacing around the room with a bored expression on his face and acting like he would rather be anywhere else but in that room.

Suddenly I hear the door opening with a loud clang before I notice Snow's other daughter, Athena, walking into the room with guards on either side of her. They unchain the links on her wrists and slam the door, locking them all in the room to be alone for the last time.

As soon as the guards leave the little girl runs to Athena, throwing her small body into her big sister with such a force that they almost tip over as Athena clenches the girl's tiny frame. Tears start to prick at my vision and I feel Gale next to me before I see him-he wraps his strong arms around me, kisses my temple, and grounds my instability with both his touch and familiar warmth as we watch the scene before us.

**Athena's POV:**

My sister cries silently as she holds onto me with an iron grip in her little fists and I feel my shirt become wet from her salty tears, but I do not care. My sister is alive in my arms and that is all that matters. I kiss the top of her head, holding her closer to me, then looking at my father I become overwhelmed with the urge to shelter Pompeia. Hide her away with my body, drawing her in like my mother had done so many times to me in order to protect me from the monster that shares my own blood.

"Athena," Pompeia whispers softly into my shirt, sounding like a wounded animal. And I put my hands on either side of her face to ease her face up to look into my eyes, so she can tell how serious I am when I tell her there will be no goodbyes. And how proud our mother would have been to look at her baby girl and see how much she looks like my mother.

"Listen to me Pompeia, alright? I love you. There is nothing that will ever change that and if I don't make it back-" My father chuckles loudly across the room, his arms folded across his chest as he looks at my sister and I in disgust, and I leer at him in attempt to wipe the arrogant smirk off his face. It does not work so I turn my attention back on my sister, ignoring the fact that I want to punch my father in the face.

"If I do not make it back Pompeia I just want you to know that I have a plan to keep you safe, and nothing bad will happen to you. No matter what... we will always have here," I place my hand over my heart in the gesture my mother taught me. The action that holds a special meaning between Pompeia and I-that through out every downfall a person's heart still beats true and strong-a part of us that no one can touch.

With a shaky hand and a tear-stained face, Pompeia places her hand over her heart and looks at me before crumbling to a state of uncontrollable weeping. Hugging her to me, I stroke my hand over her braids that are beginning to fall out of place and hum softly to calm her down.

"Alright," my father grumbles, looking at us with an expression of pure disgust. "That is enough of that. Pompeia, go wait outside. I have to have a few words with Athena, alone." Before I could begin to protest the door of the room opens and the two guards are escorting Pompeia out, but I run to the door and call out to her before she can leave. Everything is going too fast and I just need time to slow down for at least a couple minutes because I have so much to say to my sister but the clock is running out. Time is up and I can only hug her one last time, kiss her cheek, and tell her that I love her and that she needs to stay strong before the guards literally carry her out of the room. Gone.

"What do you want?" My voice is stiff and I do not bother turning around to meet my father's cold, dead eyes. Instead, I keep my back to him as I watch the door that my sister exited and hope that I can keep true to my promise to keep her safe.

"Now, Athena, is that any way to speak to your father? And with your sister in such a...fragile condition." I snap my gaze to him, gritting my teeth at his words and the threat he poses to Pompeia.

"Oh, good. I have seemed to have gained your attention," he points out, while his puffy lips pull back into a leer as he steps closer to me. "Yes. We would not want anything to happen to sweet, little Pompeia. Now would we?" His breathe assaults my senses, a mixture of blood and roses, and I resist the urge to gag.

"Do not touch my sister, you-" I bite my tongue, looking to the ground in search of an answer to my situation and finding nothing but the little cracks in the once pristine marble floor.

"That is what I thought, Athena. You may think you are so tough, that you can outlast any amount of painful whippings but I want you to know that I am the one in charge here and that if you disobey me I can and will destroy everything that you hold near and dear. It is just a shame, being that little Pompeia is so very young and..._innocent_." His emphasis causes me to lunge forward at him but one of the guards-who seemed to appear from out of no where-grabs me by the arms before I can do any real damage, unfortunately.

My father chuckles at my struggles to escape and assault him, steps forward but remains a foot away to mock me, and smiles one of his cruel smiles. "You have so much to learn, my dear. You have no idea the potential you have, what you could have been, but just like your mother-you disappoint me." I glare at him, hoping the saying would come true and 'looks really could kill'.

He leans forward, close to my face, and I smell the blood from his sickness mingling with the scent of those awful roses. "All that training we did and you want to lie down like a dog for the district's, for these _rebels_. You can win this and you can take my place and rule the Capitol after I am gone because that is what I made you for, my first born-a warrior, someone of power."

"Father?" My voice hints of interest, like I am beginning to understand his words and becoming influenced to do his bidding. My father smiles, leaning forward as to not miss a single word of what I have to say. As if he has already won me over.

"Go to hell," I whisper coldly, and then spit in his pompous, superficial altered face. Then, looking at him closely, I see he is no longer smiling and his eyes are ablaze with anger.

"You _will_ regret that, you foolish girl. So much potential but-in the end-such a waste, like mother like daughter. Too weak to take a stand." I continue to glare at him as he walks to the door, burning a hole in the back of his head with my stare full of hatred. Then, with his hand on the doorknob, he turns his cold gaze on me once more and smiles.

"Maybe Pompeia will not turn out to be such a waste, after all with a bit of shaping and _conditioning_ she could have a certain amount of potential. Though I do fear she is so weak, too _innocent_. Isn't that the word you used? Such a precious thing-innocence-but it makes you so weak." I am trembling at this point and beginning to struggle in the guards firm hold, as I watch my father stare at me with implications in his words.

A guard opens the door to escort him out but he turns again to look at me one last line with the cruel smile painted on his grotesque face. "Oh. And Athena. Happy Hunger Games."

And just like that he was gone, leaving the scent of blood and roses lingering in the air and a stabbing pain in my chest at the mere thought of the plans he had for my sister. What have I done...?

**Katniss' POV:**

I watch as Athena slides to the floor once President Snow walks out the door, it shuts with a soft click, as shes looks around with a stunned expression written on her face. Folding her arms and balancing her elbows on her knees, the girl hangs her head in shame. I have seen enough but I cannot tear my gaze away.

"Haymitch," I call quietly, it is a miracle that he even hears me but he does. I feel his presence at my side as I continue to watch the monitor.

"Got something for me, sweet-heart?" There is humor in his words but I don't feel much like laughing as I watch Athena crumbling from what I only can understand as worry and fear. Fear for her sister.

"I want you to find that little girl," I whisper to Haymitch, nodding at the screen for emphasis before looking at him. "Find her before Snow gets ahold of her and bring her to my house, I will explain everything later but tell my mother to make sure both her and the girl are safe. And, for god-sake, do not let Coin get wind of it until I think up a proper excuse for why I want to house a child of the Capitol."

Haymitch looks at Gale confused, like he is asking a question. Gale and I lock eyes, his grey eyes sparking with curiosity before slowly softening to understanding, then he looks at Haymitch and nods in confirmation to my request.

"Already up to no good, sweet-heart? Scheming up some plan, I should not be very surprised, but-just be careful-I don't want you ending up blacklisted by Coin. But just remember that I go where the mockingjay goes, so you're stuck with me sweet-heart. Girl on fire or not, I got your back."

I smile slightly at his words but the smile falters as I begin to think of Pompeia dying in various ways-like Prim, then Rue...followed by many others. "And I always have your back, Haymitch. Now hurry, please." I turn to look at him but he is already gone, the door swinging shut behind him, and I exchange a glance with Gale to signal that this is the beginning of something big. And as important as it is to me I know it can also cause a lot of trouble, but with at least Haymitch and Gale-and possibly Peeta-I know we can take it.

**Reviews? I would like your opinion on whether everyone would like me to continue with this type of format-with Katniss', Athena's, and Peeta's POV-or if you have any other thoughts or opinions just throw them out there. Thank you =]**


	12. Chapter 12Enemy

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**Athena's POV:**

I jump over another beam while several panels swing back and forth in attempt to knock me violently to the ground, dogging it at the last minute I jump to the next beam with steady feet. The next beam is a running distance so I increase my speed before leaping the straight stretch.

"Snow!" I fumble on the landing and fall to the ground, hard, as a panel slams down inches from my face. Picking myself up of the floor slowly, checking for any signs of injury on the way up, I look into the angry eyes of President Coin.

"You think that the little heart-to-heart display fooled me, that you pulled a wool over my really believe that, don't you?" Coin glares at me and I resist the urge to stick my tongue out at her for two reasons-one being that she would likely take offense to the strange act and demand to have my tongue removed immediately. And the other because I don't want to push her anger towards me over the edge anymore than it already is.

I mean I understand she is disgusted with me but the woman is just always so angry, and I do not believe I have ever seen her smile. Meanwhile I notice Katniss walking up beside President Coin, looking at me with her face void of any emotion or interest.

"Damn it, Coin. You are the one who wanted us to train the tributes to fight each other and now you're disrupting my mentoring with your accusations. You could have had her killed, then where would your Games be? You would be down one tribute." Peeta questions Coin but exchanges a look with Katniss that causes him to frown in confusion and nodding before turning his attention back to Coin.

"Mellark, I suggest you watch your tongue. I am in charge here. We may be allies but I do not believe you want to challenge me because you will find yourself in a very ugly place, and I can promise you that." Peeta narrows his eyes at Coin, exchanges another glance with Katniss, and walks away shaking his head.

We all watch him walk to the camouflage section and begin mixing paints, dabbing various colors onto his skin with concentration but I notice his hands are trembling. Katniss clears her throat and I turn my attention back to them to notice them watching me, waiting for something.

"Excuse me?" My question causes President Coin to grit her teeth and snort at my lack of attention.

"I said if it is any luck Peeta will not teach you anything and you will die quickly, but then I would not get the pleasure of watching you die a slow, painful death. However Mellark seems to have forgotten us with all his...painting, sulking over there like a child." At her words I see Katniss' jaw clench and she narrows her eyes at Coin for a second.

"Coin. Do not test my patience, I am on your side but _you_ must not forget that _Peeta and I _produced this rebellion, and Peeta is just as important as I am. We are a package deal, so do not ever let me catch you threatening him again. He has been through a lot," Katniss says to Coin, then locks eyes with me. "No thanks to the Capitol." She turns and walks over towards Peeta, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder to capture his attention. Startled, he turns to faces her with a frown and listens intently while she speaks in a whisper to him.

Watching Peeta causes a flutter in my belly and I think of the countless times we have found ourselves very close to one another today. For instance there was a moment while I was training where I lost my balance and fell off a beam, only to have him catch me effortlessly and seeming to come out of no where.

**This morning...:**

_"Come on Athena, you have to go faster. Jump! Jump! Pick up the pace, swing you leg over the bar before you boost yourself up. No, not like that. Now run. Faster, faster!"_

_My chest heaved and my lungs felt pressured as I climbed a particularly high beam, my fingers shaking as I got higher. Do not look down, do not look down. Swinging my leg over the bar like Peeta commanded, my vision strayed to the ground below me and my knees began to lock up. Everything around me became blurry and I felt the bile begin to rise up in my throat, my hands reached for the next bar to boost myself up and over but my fingers faltered for a firm hold on the cold, hard surface. My grasp slipped and soon enough I was falling. _

_It is a strange sensation when you fall, the things around you flash by in a swirl of colors and all I wanted to do was calm my churning stomach and rapid heart. My heartbeat rang violently in my ears, creating a pressure that pounded viciously in my head._

_I close my eyes, hoping for the sensation to stop and waiting for the impact I am about to suffer, and allow my mind to drift away from my fall. However, the impact does not end up as bad as I thought it would be, and there is no pain in my body when I open my eyes. There is only warmth, which rushes through my body like delicious heat wave after long periods of chilling coldness._

_"You okay? That could have been a nasty fall." A pair of bright blue eyes stop the spinning around me and I absorb the fact that Peeta just caught me, that it is his warmth that surrounds me like a heated blanket-warm and comfortable._

_I nod silently, looking at anywhere but those blue eyes that make me want to melt and-at the same time-draw back away from him. When Peeta sets me on my feet the spinning has ceased but the feeling of dizziness still remained, the sensation causing my stomach to rise up in my throat and my hands to shake._

_Attempting to walk back to the beams-anywhere to get away from Peeta's prying eyes-I stumble, the dizziness getting the best of me. Strong hands grasp my arms both gently and firmly in order to stop me from falling again._

_"Are you sure you're alright? You look a little...flushed. How about we take a break for right now? We can go get something to eat and then after a while come back and try some other things to help you in the arena._

_I nod again, peering at the floor and praying I do not vomit all over his nicely polished shoes as the bile threatens to rises up in my throat. As if sensing my hesitation to walk, Peeta grabs my hand and leads me down the hall to a room that requires him to type a code into a device. _

_The room, or should I say suite, is like no other place I have seen in all the homes and rooms I have endured in the Capitol. Paintings line the walls with images filled with breathe-taking sunsets, various depictions of a wooded area, but most of all I recognize the most familiar pieces of art with a shudder. _

_The Seventy-fourth and Seventy-fifth:Third Quarter Quell Hunger Games are depicted very beautifully, and I think that is what makes them all the more horrible. Did Coin have them placed there? A constant reminder of why to harbor hatred for the Capitol, fuel to fire up the crowd of Districts and to accept killing innocent children._

_"Oh," Peeta mumbles quietly, noticing me staring at the paintings. "I forgot to put those in my study after they finished drying. Coin had me in a rush this morning." I nod my head absentmindedly but then it hits me, like a punch to the stomach, and I feel another wave of nausea crash over me. However, this time it is not from my fear of heights. _

_The fact that Peeta can remember the complete detail of each memory is terrifying, not to mention torturous to think that he sees the events now-four years later-with such clarity. I feel the drop in my stomach at the pain he has suffered because of my father, because of us-the Capitol. Such horrors he has endured-that all the districts have endured-and he has made them come alive in the form of paint red as the blood spilled for each district, art, and memories._

_I walk up to one of the paintings, lifting my hand to allow my fingers to hover over a girls body crumbled on a grime-covered ground with blood surrounding her and her arm extended on the ground in front of her-as if she is attempting to help someone even in death . The girl is small and cannot be more than thirteen or fourteen, but when I take in her face I feel the urge to scream because the girl resembles Pompeia. Only a lot older. _

_A tear slips down my cheek because this girl shares so much in common with my sister, a proof that the innocent pay for the corrupts mistakes and sins. Her eyes are closed but I know that if she were to open them they would share the same shade of blue as my sister's. _

_"I'm sorry," I whisper to Primrose, as another tear trails down and slides off my jaw-line to make its decent to the plush, carpeted floor. I hear Peeta banging around in the next room and let my arm drop back to my side, attempting to pull myself together but I feel to puffiness of my eyes and know the damage is already done. _

_"Would you like some bread? I left it to cool earlier this morning but that was a couple hours ago, it should be a pretty good temperature about now. Or I think I might have some roasted turkey from the other night in here, if you want a sandwich or something?" My stomach sinks again, as it usually does when I am presented with the option to eat the flesh of an animal, and I turn to look at Peeta-tearing my gaze away from the painting that speaks the reason of Katniss' hatred for me and the rest of the Captiol._

_"No," I say, hesitantly shaking my head. "Bread will be just fine, and more than you."_

_Peeta nods at my reply and gestures for me to join him in the room, that I notice to be a kitchen-his kitchen. He slices a couple pieces off a loaf of delicious-looking bread, which is adorned with sweet berries, and divides the portions on two plates before setting one of the plates in front of me._

_I hesitantly pick the slice up, feeling the warmth pressed to my fingers and smelling the sweet aroma invade my senses. Looking over at Peeta and cautiously raising the warmth to my lips, I notice he has already devoured his first piece of bread._

_"I'm not going to poison you, Athena." He laughs, pouring milk into two glasses before setting one down in front of me. Hesitantly I pick it up and feel the cold substance through the glass, then take a slow sip after taking a nibble at the bread in my other hand._

_"Why are you so nice to me?" I think of the words in my head but I am startled to find them slip passed my lips, allowing them to hang in the air absentmindedly. Peeta pauses, a glass of milk pressed to his inviting lips as he stares into space, and the silence that follows is long and slightly nerve-racking. For a minute I think he is not going to answer me, brush aside my question like the crumbs scattered on his plate._

_"I am not really sure," he says softly to the countertop, as he sets down his glass with careful hands. Then his blue eyes meet mine, soft and honest, and he fumbles to reach for a better reply but I break eye contact to stare at the bread in my hand, nodding silently._

_"Actually, I do sort of know. You remind me of someone. Someone I use to know, or at least think I knew." His words spark my curiosity and I cannot help but peer into those bright eyes that are the color of the sky in daylight. I want to know more, press him for more information, but his expression suggests that I should not. As a result, I simply nod my head and take another bit of the sweetness of the warm bread._

_"This is good," I say quietly, waving the slice in emphasis. "You are a very good cook, or baker." My comment trails off lamely, followed by another silence as I peer down at the bread and take the last bite._

_I look at him again and notice he is smiling at me, grinning with a contained expression like he is trying not to laugh...at me. Ignoring the strangeness of the situation, I shoot him a confused look and take a sip of milk. Wondering who it is I remind him of..._

**Now...**

"-and you can bet that I will not tolerate that outcome Snow. _Snow_. Oh for crying out loud, you stupid creature, you have not absorbed a single thing I have said-have you? No. Of course you have not, you brainless troll." I turn away from Peeta's direction and look at President Coin, while she spits out insults at me.

"Excuse me?" I asked politely. However, the expression on Coin's face suggests I should have just remained silent because once the words fall out of my mouth the vein on Coin's temple becomes very is not happy.

A crash rings throughout the room, I jump and turn towards the noise to see Peeta gripping the camouflage stations table and staring at Katniss in outrage. His eyes dart over to me, the blue peering at me like a laser zoning in on something of interest, and it seems like time has been paused as we stare at each other from across the room. He is the first to break eye-contact, his heated gaze leaving me with feelings of worry and confusion.

Katniss touches his arm, explaining something to him in a hushed tone, and I watch as Peeta's body-language becomes relaxed. He nods, slowly, allowing her to continue as he crosses his arms across his chest and frowns.

"You may think you have Peeta fooled, Snow, but you do not. The boy may be gentle at times but you are just as much of an enemy to him as you are to the rest of the districts." Her words are hissed into my ear, while I continue to watch Peeta at a distance.

"I am an enemy to all," I say to President Coin, and I turn away from the close conversation between Peeta and Katniss because she is right. I should not delude myself into trusting anyone, including Peeta, no matter how _nice_ they appear to be. So I look at President Coin, in all her anger and hate, and agree with her because if I want to keep my sister alive I have to depend on the only one who can be trusted. Myself.

"I am even an enemy to myself," I whisper, and turn to peer at Peeta one last time before I push myself away from him. Meanwhile, I feel the eyes of the district President on my back-the eyes that speak the hate of the districts.

**So what do you think? I want to thank all of you that reviewed, you made me work extra hard on this chapter so please keep it up! I love to hear your opinions and thoughts. Review please =]**


	13. Chapter 13 Tell Me Lies

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**Okay, I feel some confusion has been rising. There are no "stranger" POV's in the story, the only POV's are from Katniss, Peeta, and Athena. If you would prefer for me to just stick with just Athena and Peeta's POV just send the word. Hope this helps, enjoy! =]**

**Peeta's POV:**

"Katniss, what do you mean you have Snow's other daughter in a safe place? After all Athena did to keep her out of Coin's hands, sacrificing herself, and you put the girl on a silver platter for Coin. Did you come up with this plan by yourself? No, _of course _not, Haymitch and Gale probably helped you while you distracted Coin. Am I right?" My voice is hushed but slowly rises in anger, praying Katniss has not just sentenced the child to death and that Coin is oblivious to all the events.

We walk up the long, winding road that leads up to Katniss' house-well, it is more her mother's because Katniss and I live in suites located in the Capitol headquarters, but that is besides the point.

"Quiet," Katniss warns me, sending me a look that suggest for me to remain silent until we can talk more privately. I shake my head and frown, in response, but fall silent until we have reached the doorway.

The door closes with a sharp click and I unload on her, demanding for her to explain why she felt the need to put the child at such a risk.

"What was I suppose to do Peeta? Snow was practically announcing to the world that he was going to torture her, and all I could think about was Prim. She looks just like her, Peeta. It was torture to think about him getting to end her life again, so I decided to take action." Katniss' voice pleads desperation and I know that I have already caved, allowing myself to stand and comfort her.

"Katniss?" Mrs. Everdeen's voice echoes off the walls of the big house and I hear the footsteps coming from the kitchen before I see making her way over to us. "Oh, thank goodness. I thought that was you. The child is a bit shaken but I have gotten her to rest for now, so would you two mind keeping the volume to a minimum?"

"I am not asleep," the voice speaks out of the shadows, quiet and cautious. We all turn towards the source and our eyes are greeted by a tiny frame that has aged six years-at most. Her pale face is so plain and ordinary compared to all the other's in the Capitol, including Athena with her strange topaz eyes. You do not think of the Capitol when you look at Pompeia, with her bright blue eyes and fair blonde hair, instead you are forced to think of how much she resembles other children of the District's. And that, I think, is so much worse.

Pompeia looks from Mrs. Everdeen, to Katniss, to me, then back to Katniss and raises her chin as if to attempt bravery. "What is it that you want with me?" Her blue gaze is locked on Katniss', refusing to be the one to break eye contact first. She is a brave little thing, and I have to hold back a smile as she sizes Katniss up with careful eyes. However, my smile slips away when I realize her hands are trembling so badly that she attempts to hide them behind her back without anyone noticing. She is terrified. Of us.

"We just wanted to make sure you were kept safe," Mrs. Everdeen said gently as Katniss just stared at Pompeia. Blue eyes flick over Katniss' mother momentarily before returning to Katniss, waiting for some sort of reaction or reply with her face turned up in courage.

"I will not tell you anything that will cause my sister harm, alright. I just want to be clear because if it is answers or secrets that you want...then I am not the right person to ask." Pompeia's voice comes out just as any six-year-old's but the words she speaks are years above her, as if the girl's childhood is being slowly seeped out of her.

"We are not going to hurt you," Katniss says simply, looking at the child and becoming considerably pale. There is a long, drawn out pause and the room fills up with a tension that could likely be cut through with a knife.

"No," Pompeia's tiny voice whispers, looking down at the floor. "You only want to destroy my sister's life, while I stand by and watch." Tears spill out of her blue eyes and trail slowly down her tear-stained face, peering at Katniss with a look of pure helplessness.

Katniss opens her mouth, as if to try to come up with a reply, but she seems to decide against it and closes her mouth. I take a step forward and find her glancing up at me in uncertainty, as if she is not sure what to think of me.

"I am going to try and save your sister," I say firmly. Pompeia squints, ocean waves transformed to slivers, and I see her small jaw become clenched. The expression is clear on her face but she allows the silence to hang instead of saying it out loud. _Liar_. She is calling me a liar. She may not realize it, or understand it, but her hesitation and body language hits me like a slap in the face.

"You should try and gets some rest... Pri-Pompeia," Katniss' mother says, softly. "It has been quite a long day, and you are safe here." Her fumbling signals another silence that is so intense that I hear Katniss intake her breathe, sharply. Yet I know both of them were both thinking of the resemblance, hell, even I was.

As if sensing the tension, Pompeia looks to the ground and slowly nods, but that young mind seems to be far away. Katniss' mother slowly leads her up the stairs but Pompeia pauses on a step and meets my eyes, locking blue to blue in seriousness.

"She will not accept your help," she says, quietly. "My sister is stubborn and independent, she will refuse you." Satisfied with her words, Pomepia continued her way up until she disappeared from sight.

"Strange child," I say to Katniss, uneasily. She nods, slowly, in response. The color in her face has begun to return but she still looks like she has seen a ghost, which if you think about it she sort of did.

"Well," Katniss sighs. "She is a Snow, I suppose when you have a father like the former president that you are destined to be strange."

**Athena's POV:**

Knock. Knock.

_Go away_. I process the thought faintly as I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling like I have been doing for what seems like days but I know its only been hours. My mind has entered a state of numbness, pushing my emotions farther and farther away because that is what is going to be required for me to slaughter all the tributes from the Capitol. Hopefully, they diminish themselves while I figure out a plan to put in action in the arena.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Don't these people know that I cannot open the doors of my chamber by my own free will? Not that I would make the effort to do so at this point anyway but still...

I hear the footsteps retreating and my ears are greeted once again with silence, the sound seeps into my ears and clouds my head like a powerful drug. Not that I have ever taken drugs, of course. What am I going to do? I direct my question to the swirling patterns of the ceiling, searching for answers in the cream and periwinkle expanse.

Knock.

The rap was quick, as if it were a warning, and followed by the sound of jingling keys slipping into the lock. I hear the creak of the door but I do not bother to rise from where I am, spread out on the bed like a comatose patient while studying the ceiling.

"Oh, dear. She is not dead do you think, Flavius?" A high chirp sings out the question about my well-being, and I practically cringe because I know it is someone born of the Capitol. Yet, I am puzzled as to why Coin would allow them to come to my room.

"_Venia_," someone else-Flavius, or whomever, perhaps-warns. My interest is sparked because there are two people of the Capitol in the room with me now, and I am becoming quite confused to the reason why.

"What? Oh, come on. Octavia was thinking it too!" The chirping voice gets louder and I actually cringe at the sound, the movement seems to bring notice to the three-I'm hoping that's all that there are-Capitol people.

"Oh good! I saw movement in her face, or at least I think I did, didn't you Octavia? I swear I saw a twitch of some sort." I cannot take the curiosity, or the discussion of me being dead, any longer so in one swift movement I prop myself up into a sitting position to take them in.

They are so bright and colorful, and so...familiar. We stay paused like that for a few moments, seeming unsure where to go from here, and examining each other closely.

"You...you look familiar," I say quietly, furrowing my brow in attempt to conjure up where I have seen them before.

"We were the artist team for Katniss and Peeta, among many others in the Games," the one says. Meanwhile, at the same time, another speaks something more alarming. "We were friends of your mother's long ago, when you were very young."

"_Octavia,_" the one who said about being the artist team for the Games says, in a warning manner. The two-Venia and Flavius, shoot the woman a look and shake their heads.

"Oops," Octavia's eyes dart back and forth from me to Venia and Flavius, and back. "Sorry. But it is true," she adds. Then her eyes fall to the ground and she fiddles with the basket she is holding in her hands, while the other two try and think of something to say.

"Dare I ask why President Coin would send you in here?" The attitude of the three appears to sour at the mention of Coin, but they brighten back up with an effort.

"The President has asked us to make you presentable for dinner, which all of the tributes will be attending." Venia informs me of this in a carefree manner, however, there is an edge in her voice that causes nervousness to creep up in her tone.

Venia and Flavius begin doing my hair and make-up, while Octavia sets to work ripping out the hair on my legs with hot wax and cooling ointment. After Octavia is finished she hovers over me, scrutinizing my face for mistakes done by her companions.

"You look nothing like your mother, not one single feature. It is so strange," Octavia says, thinking out loud. Venia shakes her head and Flavius frowns, peering at me closely.

"Honestly, Octavia. No one looks like their parents these days, and who would want to." Flavius attempted to save the situation, but I feel my heart sink down even lower at his words because I would love more than anything to look in the mirror and see my mother's reflection. However, my father made sure that would never happen long ago.

"But I must say her little sister, Pompeia does. Such striking features at such a young age, I know I saw them myself earlier today at Mrs. Everdeen's. Now that was a sight to see, she will grow to look just like your mother. Big blue eyes and all that blonde hair." Venia drops the lipstick in her hand and stares in awe at Octavia, as if dumbfounded that the words were really coming out of her friends mouth.

"_Octavia!"_ Venia's eyes are wide and panicked as she searches around the room like Octavia has just set something off and now there is the possibility that everything will blow up in a big explosion.

Then, suddenly, my own reaction to the new-found information surfaces and I feel the anger build up inside of me-filling me to the brim. My sister was taken despite my efforts to keep her safe, despite Peeta's promise that if I participate she will be kept out of harms way.

He lied, not that I should be that surprised because Coin was right-that Peeta is not my friend. He lied. But I am the enemy to his entire district. He lied. It hurt to think about and caused my heart to fall in disappointment, shockingly. He lied. And now my sister is in danger.

He lied. And I am pissed.

**What do you think? Reviews!**


	14. Chapter 14 Snowflakes into Flowers

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games**_**!**

**Thank you to **_**Textcrazy**_**, **_**Cupcakelover56, bbymojo!**_

**bbymojo: Sorry for the confusion but Chapters 5 and 11 are suppose to be for this story, I will try to explain. **

**Chapter 5 was after Athena was whipped and Peeta chose to intervene, that is a slight parody to Katniss intervening when Gale was whipped in **_**Catching Fire. **_**Anyways Peeta feels from the very beginning that the whole Hunger Games with Capitol children tributes is hypocitical, and he finds a way to put a stop to it in Athena. Athena, he believes, is the only one who truly despises President Snow as much as he does-along with everyone else in the District. He wants her to train to win but doesn't really think about the fact that if she wins she likely will has to kill others of the Capitol, her own kind. Athena does not understand why Peeta would want to help someone like her, the daughter of the man who put his whole family and district 12 to death. So, Athena points out various reasons why he should hate her, just like anyone from the District's should, but she is still curious as to why Peeta is so interested in chosing her(I will explain a bigger reason why in later chapters). Peeta, finally, gets Athena to bend to his will and begin to put her trust in him by promising to keep Pompeia safe as long as she tries to win. Athena still lacks the motivation to win until chapter 6, when Peeta announces the Decade Pass-where the winners family will be granted the chance to not has their family reaped for one decade. Athena wants more than anything for Pompeia to be safe so she knows she has to try her hardest to win; however, Athena still does not fully trust Peeta yet so there is complications.**

**Chapter 11 is kind of a parody to when the District tributes where allowed to meet with their families for a few minutes, however, President Coin felt that the opprotunity allowed her to dig for information from Snow and his family. Coin is wrongly thinking that President Snow cares about the lives of his children, Athena and Pompeia, and believes that watching the reunion of them will reveal hidden secrets from President Snow. However, the whole scene just demonstrates how much Athena hates her father and what a monster President Snow is. In the end, Athena crumbles as she realizes her outbrust at her father is going to be taken out on Pompeia, and that is why she thinks "what have I done?" Yet, from behind the two way mirror, Katniss watches the whole thing and finds herself wanting to protect Pompeia from President Snow. Katniss' reasoning is because Pompeia strongly resembles her sister, Primrose, and she could not bear letting President Snow take her life again-even though Pompeia is not really Prim, but Katniss sees Prim in the young child.**

**My that did feel complicated when I rewrote what I was trying to say, I am sorry. If you have any other thoughts or confusions please do not hesitate to let me know. Thank you for your support and kind words, it is much appreciated! =]**

**Athena's POV:**

"There. Finished. The only thing left is to get you dressed, then all the world can see our work." Venia's words cause me to fold my arms across my body, hugging the warmth in while my fingers stretch over the scars I know are hidden beneath my clothing.

"I can dress myself," I say firmly, and I watch as Flavius and Octavia exchange a glance. However it is Venia's gaze I hold, her expression remains puzzled of a moment but she just shrugs and sets the fabric on the bed.

Venia, Flavius, and Octavia leave the room in a trail of bright feather's and exotic scents, the door shutting quietly and the jingle of keys locking me in my prison.

I walk over to the bed and look down at what I am expected to wear, running my fingers over the smooth fabric of a white dress that is cocoon inside a rough bag. My hands shift the dress out of the bag and I raise my eyebrows in part fascination while the other half wants to tear the thing to shreds.

It looks like a snowflake. The bottom of the dress falls in sections-five to be exact-with each slit beginning at mid-thigh length, draping down the legs to the ankle. The top half is thankfully conservative, with a mesh fabric covering the back but allowing the chest to curve in and flare out like the center of ice-crystals and bunched up silver fabric.

Sighing, I decide to get it over with and slip the silky dress on, so I start by shedding my clothes. Standing naked in the middle of the room I look over my shoulder and catch my reflection in a mirror across the room, and see the scars shining on my abdomen, sides, and back. One curves up from the bottom of my ribcage to my left breast, licking it with a curved and raised tongue.

Quickly, I force the dress on so roughly I am surprised that I do not hear the sound of ripped fabric. Chancing a second look in the mirror I find myself peering closer, finding my body and appearance transformed.

I am not not a snowflake, I understand that now, instead the Capitol stylists have turned me into a soft and beautiful flower. The sections of white falling across my thighs down to my ankles I had thought were suppose to be the edges of a simplified snowflake, however, I now see the real idea. Each strip is a petal, and I am the flower.

The curved, bunched-in center of the dress-the part I confused as the ice-crystal center of a snowflake-is actually the delicate bud that completes the allusion of the flower. It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and I have been presented with a lot of pretty things from the Capitol.

Running my fingers over the material, the sensation is soft like butter or-more likely-like real pedals on a flower plucked on a blooming day in spring. My hand cups a "pedal" before letting it flutter back down past my knees, with a smile pulling at my lips I peer closer to my refection. Then, seeing my face, I hear my breathe intake a fair amount of oxygen because the girl looking back is not one I recognize.

The pale glimmer of my face sparkles with a strange silver dust that glitters on each of my cheekbones and around my eyes, which jump out like two freshly cut topaz gemstones against the contrasting white and silver. My hair falls in waves over my shoulders, crashing down my back in a sea of ebony, and a single white flower is pinned above my right temple.

"I can only imagine what Brutus looks like," I whisper, but the voice seems so far away and distant. I turn around to search the room as if to try and prove the words were not my own, that the creature in front of me was not me. However, peering around the room, I eyes capture no one but the reflection staring back at me in astonishment.

Knock. Knock.

The door creaks open slowly, while I stand with my feet rooted to the floor waiting for the person to reveal themselves. Half of me is filled with the hope that it is Peeta, so he can see me looking like this, but my mind squashes the thought immediately because the thought of Peeta causes a rush of anger within me.

Peeta enters slowly with a hand covering his eyes, while the other hand searches blindly to close the door. How odd.

"Are you decent?" His voice is rough and masculine but the tone of it is laced with humor, however, I do not feel much like laughing right now.

"You can call it that," I say, dryly. Should I question him first about the whereabouts of my sister, or just start off by striking him? I take a few steps towards Peeta and notice he is dressed up for the mysterious occasion as well-a white long-sleeved buttoned dress shirt ,opened at the collar just enough to see the skin of his neckline, with rolled up sleeves to reveal the skin of his forearms.

I fight back the urge to allow my hand to travel up the expanse of his strong chest, harnessing the rage I hold deep within and plant my feet in defiance. The door shuts and Peeta slowly removes his hand from his eyes, all the while smiling like he has just heard the most comical thing.

Then his eyes find me rooted in my defiant stance, and the smile slips from his face. However, it is not a frown I had expected to see in reaction to my attitude, and I find myself staring at a man who seems paralyzed in shock. I should have punched him when I had the chance...

"You-you...I-um-" he stammers, then clears his throat. "You look very _nice_, Athena." He says, a flush rising in his cheeks, before swallowing. Hard. I stare at him for a few moments, folding my arms across my chest and gritting my teeth to cover up the frantic beating of my heart and the flutter in my stomach.

I definitely should have hit him before he had the chance to open his mouth, before he could try and sway me with his tantalizing words. I am angry, and no amount of handsomeness or whatever it is I am feeling can change that.

"Peeta," I begin, my words forced through clenched teeth. My tone seems to catch his attention because confusion marks his face in a frown, but no amount of "concern" will cease the anger burning in my heart.

"Peeta," I say again, my voice becoming what Pompeia always described as "scary calm" and I look at Peeta with every ounce of fury burning behind my eyes at the thought of my sister in danger. "I am going to ask you a question, and if you lie to me I will just have to kill you."

Peeta looks at me with a stunned expression and for a second I think he almost laughed, thinking this was all some strange joke. But then he studied the seriousness of my features and found no hint of humor behind my eyes. Then, he remained quiet-waiting.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Sighing, I know this conversation will have to wait because the person behind the door hints at impatience. Peeta gives me a pointed look, as if to say that we will continue this conversation later, and reaches for the handle of the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Alright. Alright already," Peeta mumbles, swinging the door open in annoyance. Two guards stand with arms folded across their chests, waiting with raised eye brows and smirking at his outburst. Then, looking in the room at me they exchange a toothy-grinned look before turning back to Peeta, and the one steps forward and pushes passed Peeta to come towards me.

"Captain sent us to come retrieve the tribute," the one guard says, taking a step closer to Peeta. "That okay with you, mate?"

Peeta nods but it is clear the guard did not say it as a question, while the other guard snapped the linked cuffs on me and pulled me roughly towards the door. When he shoves me passed Peeta, I see Peeta's eyes widen and his expression fill with concern but I shrug the thought off immediately.

We walk down the hall to a set of double doors that open up to reveal a grand dining hall, everyone already seems to be there and sitting in seats next to their matched colors. Additionally, I notice I am not the only one elaborately dresses. I am, however, the only one-aside from Brutus-who is not dressed in something ridiculous.

Team green are dressed as plants, leaves to be exact, but the material is so elaborate they look like they just emerged from a thick forest and could not get the vegetation to stop sticking to them. The yellow team were suppose to be portrayed as the sun, which could have been cool but they contained enormous head-dresses that spiked out in all directions-to distract the audience away from the scantly clothed bodies underneath, I suppose. Similarly, blue and red felt that their tributes should be dipped in dye and covered in swirls-waves for blue and intricate designs of crackling fire for red.

After I am unchained, I take my seat next to Brutus-who is dressed similarly to me in a white puffy shirt and dull silver pants, with a crown of jagged white flowers on his head.

"Why hello there, Princess. Don't you look ravishing this evening," Brutus says sarcrastically, his face a mask of smug. I narrow my eyes at him and allow a smirk to rise on my lips, as Brutus' eyes rove over my body-lingering too long on the areas of the dress that curve to my body like a second skin.

"Creep," I mumble to Brutus. I want to fold my arms across my chest, shy away from his offending gaze, but I force my hands to clasp and rest on my lap.

The door opens and slams shut, every eye turning to the sound immediately, as President Coin enters the room and takes her place at the head of the table. The mentor's of the District file in after her, spreading out in the seats beside the president.

Peeta's blue gaze finds me and I turn my head away, showing him my cheek in defiance. Brutus looks at me, smiling, and turns his dark eyes from Peeta to me before returning back to me.

"Trouble in paradise, Princess?" My temper is beginning to wear thin and if Brutus is not careful he is going to find himself in a nasty situation in the near future. However, I do my best to conceal my rising temper, and roll my eyes at Brutus.

"If this is paradise Brutus, then I believe we are all in trouble." My words seem to stump him because he remains quiet, simply staring at me with a strange expression on his face.

Suddenly, President Coin slaps the table and the room dissolves into an erie silence.

"So glad you all could join us this evening," President Coin says, cruelly smiling because it is obvious we had no choice in the matter. "Just as your parents, family, and community made us endure we felt it was only fitting that we parade you around like fools before the public-before you fight each other in the arena-so this whole event tonight will be televised for all the people in the Capitol to watch. Also, as this is a special evening, you will realize what it is like to be served by those of your community. With that in mind," Coin says, signaling to the guards-who are stationed by a nearby door.

The guards nod and kick open the door, gesturing with their guns for those within the concealed room to join the party. One by one citizens of the Capitol trudge into the room, all clothed in the same material that signify their slavery, with their heads bent over the pots they carry. Bruises and cuts mark their arms and face, abuse clear on every feature and passing glance as they begin to serve us elaborate salads to start off the meal.

"Meet our very own anox's," Coin says, coldly. I hear several gasps around me as the thought of the torture these people endured chills me to the core, but it is the concept of being an anox that is even more horrifying. Because torture and slavery is what the Capitol put the District through. Because when I look at the faces of these people I sense the pain they are feeling inside, and understand the fact that they will never be able to express an emotion directly ever again. Because just as my father did to the "traitors" among the District, Coin has stolen the voice from their throats. Because the President has cut out the tongues from their mouths.

I look around at the fellow Capitol tributes and surprisingly find their expressions calm and content, and with a stunned realization I understand that they have no idea what is going on. They do not understand the horror behind each of the individual's slavery, or they just do not care.

Another surprise I find is when I look at the side of District members because a considerable amount look sickened, my eyes jump from Katniss' tense body language to Peeta's look of mortification to even Gale and a few other's becoming pale by the president's announcement.

We all chew the fresh greens and vegetables, slowly and quietly.

The next course is a simple pasta dish with white sauce and vegetables. "I believe I thought I told the stylists to dress the tributes as ridiculous as our tributes were dressed, didn't I Johanna?" Coin says, but it is more like a statement then a question. I feel her heated stare on me as I pick at the meal in front of me, taking careful bites as the tension fills the room like a thick fog.

"Yes. I believe you did," Johanna's voice answers, hesitantly. As if she is expecting the president to leap across the table and rip the very the material from my body.

Then, the pasta dish is replaced by a steaming bowl of soup with a side of bread, and as the aroma seeps into my nostrils I resist the urge to gag. I pick up my spoon and push around the bits of brown rice, celery, and carrots. Then, I see what caused the aroma in the form of morsels floating around in the broth. Chicken.

"Something that displeases you, Miss Snow?" The question is directed at me in mock concern, and I hold back a groan as I shake my head and hesitantly take a mouthful of soup.

The taste of animal flesh in the broth is nauseating and as I take another mouthful my stomach objects and I gag involuntarily, an act that draws every pair of eyes to me. Refusing to meet their eyes, I grab at the bread and dibble at it slowly to calm my stomach.

"I believe there is something that you find offensive about this finely prepared soup, Miss Snow. Or are you calling me a liar?

I shake my head, unsure what my response should be because her question seems like a baited trap where there is no right answer. Meanwhile, Peeta slams his palm on the table angrily.

"Why are you patronizing her, Coin? She is not the only tribute,yet, you seem to direct all your anger and hate at her," Peeta says to Coin, softly but full of anger.

"Mellark, do not start with your...personal attentions to this vile creature."

"Coin," Katniss says, warningly. "Fine. Eat with the pest. Share your secrets and be merry for all I care, but do not come crying to me when it stabs you in the back." Coin's eyes narrow at Katniss as silence fills the room again. "You are dismissed Mockingjay," Coin continues, turning her attentions to the meal in front of her.

"Excuse me?" Katniss asks the question, stunned. The president sets down her spoon, acting as if the task took a lot of effort, and looked at Katniss. "I said. You are dismissed, Mockingjay." Her tone is matter-of fact, and Coin holds Katniss' gaze momentarily before turning back to the soup in front of her.

Appalled, Katniss rises to her feet and places her both palms on the table in order to capture President Coin's full attention. "I am not a child, Coin. Therefore, I will not tolerate being treated like a one. And I will not tolerate being _dismissed_," Katniss states, seething in fury. Then, without another word, Katniss storms out of the room with Gale and Haymitch trailing behind her.

Brutus, who I have seemed to forgotten entirely throughout all the passing events, pokes my side discretely to get my attention.

"See that, Princess? There is only room for one big dog in the world of power." Brutus smiles arrogantly, putting his hands behind his head and tipping the chair back in ease. As if this entire thing had been just some form of twisted entertainment for him.

**Sooo, what do you think? I am going to have Athena confront Peeta about her sister in the next chapter, what are your thoughts on how it should go over? Review! Please =]**


	15. Chapter 15 Trust

**I do not own **_**Hunger Games**_**! **

**Incase you did not realize, I changed the chapters for 5 and 11 because I accidently submitted them from a different story of mine. Many apologies! **

**Athena's POV:**

After torturous hours of parading around before the Capitol and District, we finally were dismissed to our chambers.

I walk into the room I am being kept in with Peeta following behind me, both of us weary from the down spiral of events at dinner, but it is at that moment I feel my anger resurfacing and boiling over. Without thinking, I push Peeta into the nearby table with all my might and he crashes down to the floor, then he stares up at me with a shocked expression painted on his handsome face while laying on his back.

I jump on top of him, and strike his ribcage with a force that causes him to gasp and involuntarily curl inward. As I wind up my fist to punch him in the throat, the adams-apple more specifically, he cries out in protest.

"Athena, will you just talk to me? Damn it, you crazy woman."

"Where is my sister?" Peeta's face pales, slightly, at my question and he tries to search for an answer.

"Will you let me up?" I give him a warning glance. "I am not going to run off, you silly girl. I am going to tell you, but I need you to stop digging your heel into a very sensitive area." Immediately, my eyes jump to where the heel of my shoe is jammed against his...ahem, package. Realizing that he is right-and that I am embarrassed at the very thought of touching him...there-I roll to the side and off of him. Careful to not touch the spot again, while I feel my face heat up.

"Remember. Do not lie to me, Mellark." My voice has taken on a dangerous edge, despite my embarrassment of the situation. In reaction, Peeta's eyes widen considerably at the realization that he must chose his words very carefully.

Peeta peers around the room as if to check for any sign that we will be overheard, then he walks over to the balcony doors and gestures for me to follow. Any other angered person would rejoice in the fact that they can envision throwing their enemy off a balcony, but not me. My stomach goes up to my throat as I pass through the doors with my eyes trained on the stone floor, while the wind runs its fingers through my hair. I understand why he chose to come out here, no one will be able to overhear our conversation over the sound of the wind dancing around us.

Peeta gazes down at me, an ocean of blue in his hesitant eyes. "She is at Katniss' mother's house."

My jaw clenches considerably at the news, and to say I a wave of worry decended upon me would be an understatement. A _very_ big understatement. "And _why _did she find herself there? Did you send her there, knowing what danger she could be in so near to President Coin?"

"Coin was not who Katniss was afraid would do harm to your sister, it was Snow-your father. Believe me I have already discussed this with Katniss." His voice pleaded for me to calm but his words caused my stomach to tie up in knots, coils tightening in my body so overwhelmingly that the air escaped from behind my lips and I feared I would not be able to catch my breathe.

"Katniss? Why would Katniss have any interest in my sister? So help me if she harms her in any way I will-" Peeta grasps onto my shoulders with firm hands and the words dissolve from my lips, the threat disappearing from my brain. The warmth radiates from his hands, tranferring the heat onto my bare skin with a soft sensation that causes my heart to beat around like a cagged bird within my chest.

"Katniss will not harm Pompeia," Peeta says, quietly.

"And why is that?" My mind opens up to the curiosity of this all. The strangeness that Katniss, or any of the District, would want to protect any child of the Capitol-let alone it be my sister, a Snow.

"Because-" Peeta bites his lip, hesitating. He moves away from me, turning to look out at the night sky surrounding us, and studies the stars for a moment. The cold air bites at my skin at the sudden absence of his warmth.

"Because?" I press the matter, impatient to hear the reasoning behind my sister's whereabouts. However, minutes pass by and I almost think that he will not answer.

"Because Pompeia resembles someone very important to Katniss." The wind twirls around his sentence so artfully, that I am sure if I had not been listening so carefully I would have lost them in the sky's above.

Considering his words, suddenly, I understand because even I noticed my sister's likeness to her in Peeta's painting. Primrose. My sister is being protected by Katniss because she resembles Prim, Katniss' dead sister.

"So she will not hurt her," I whisper, looking at the ground as if it will decipher all this mess so that I will know that my sister is safe. I feel the anger rise up in me again at my obvious helplessness, I want so badly to be there for Pompeia but it seems the odds are not in my favor.

I snort at the thought, the morbid realization overtaking me because when have the odds ever been in my favor. The District thinks that I lived a life like any other of the Capitol but, in truth, I was just as much of a slave to my father's whims as they were. Sure, I was defiant to my father but that doesn't mean I was not forced to obey just like they were for the rebellion. For instance, I recall one memory when I was sixteen-three years ago-that caused my father to punish me in one of the worst possible ways.

_It had been Pompeia's third birthday, and my father was home but was in his study while Pompeia played with her friends and I was getting the cake ready so Pompeia could blow out the candles. Everything was going perfectly-and maybe that should have been a sign, or omen-and when I called for Pompeia to come make her wish and blow out the candles, the children rushed over like a tiny flock of birds to fill up the chairs circling the kitchen table._

_Pompeia took her place at the head of the table, and I remember sharing a smile with her as her face glowed like an angels from the flames of the candles. I leaned in close to her and whispered into her ear, just as I always do every birthday for her._

_"What is your wish this year, Pompe?" I smiled as she thought for a moment, her face scrunched up in concentration-as if she had not been thinking of it the last month._

_"Umm," she bit her lip, hesitantly. I smiled encouragingly but she still resisted, so I leaned in close to her again-looking into her bright blue eyes._

_"Honey," I said in mock seriousness, while a smile pulled at my lips and she began to beam back. "You better hurry up, or your cake is going to be a bunch of wax. And then what will you eat for your birthday treat?" I poke her in the belly in emphasis, grinning at her as she giggles and nods._

_"I wish for you to tell me about mother," she says the words slowly, staring at the glowing cake before snapping her gaze to mine. "Tonight. It does not have to be now, of course."_

_My heart warmed and ached at the same moment, torn between conflicting emotions of love and loss. Pompeia was too young to remember the death, or the person who my mother was, but I was not. It had been two years since her death but the day felt just like yesterday when I opened the door to find my mother, and the grief and betrayal still coiled around in my heart. However, I would do anything for my baby sister._

_"As you wish." I ruffle her hair, forcing a smile as I gesture for her to blow out the candles. She does._

_The party ends to soon, too soon night closes over the streets, and too soon I walk to Pompeia's room to oblige to her birthday request. As expected, when I walked into the room, Pompeia was curled up in her bed waiting for my arrival._

_"Did you brush your teeth?" _

_"Yes," she answers, but I already know she is completely prepared for bed._

_"Brush your hair? Put away your toys?"_

_"Yes. And yes, come on Athena. Please?" Her tiny voice begs, and I feel my lips spread into a smile._

_"Alright," I say, trying to think of where to start. _

_"Is it true that I look just like her?" Hope overwhelms the tone of her voice and I nod my head, slowly._

_"Yes. You do. She had bright blue eyes, pale skin, a bell-like laugh, careful hands, long blonde hair that waved down her back. Just like you," I tell her, remembering every detail._

_"Did she-" Pompeia pauses, looking at the blanket on her bed and fiddling with a stray piece of fabric that hangs loose. "Does she?" I press, giving her my best look of encouragement while I reach forward to clasp her hand in mine._

_"Do you think she loved me?" Pompeia bites her lip, searching my eyes for answers. I smile and bring her hand up to my face, pressing the palm of it to my lips before continuing._

_"There is no one she loved more than you, Pompeia. Always remember that."_

_"Then, why-why did she-why did she...leave us?" I ponder on the question, trying to search for the right favor and wording in my mind to explain to her._

_"Mother-" I stopped, feeling a presence entering the room and turn to the doorway to find my father leaning against it with a glass of something sparkling in his glass._

_"Your mother was weak," he finished. Looking from Pompeia to me, then raised the glass to his puffy lips. "And I assume you will be to, Pompeia. Like mother like daughter." I glared at him, shaking my head I turn to Pompeia-who is practically at a state of tears._

_"Pompeia, she loved you so much but God just wanted her to go to Heaven. She is waiting for all of us up there now," I said softly, my gaze landing on my careless father. "Well. Some of us anyway."_

_The reaction to my words was instant-my father's face became very red with anger and then he turns to walk out of the room, as if he is in a hurry to get somewhere. It is when I hear the clang of the drawer in his office that I realize he is grabbing his whip. I run to the door, dead bolting Pompeia's lock in one swift motion before returning back to Pompeia. _

_"Honey," I whisper, gently. "You remember that hiding place we talked about? The one over there?" I point to the hidden door in the wall of the bedroom, while quietly sliding the dresser that concealed any trace of the edges of the entrance._

_Pompeia nods, slowly. Then, jumps at the sound of my father pounding on the door. "Athena! You foolish brats. When I get in there you are going to be sorry!" I know my father will only be held back for a few moments longer so I have to act quickly to hide Pompeia._

_I push her gently inside. "Alright. You remember the tunnel way down, right? Well if you get lost just remember to follow the purple bricks I painted for you, stay down there in the chamber for the rest of the night-unless I come fetch you. There are extra blankets for the cot, all your favorite snacks down there, and here take Mr. Bear." I place the plush, bright purple bear in her hands-her favorite toy. "Then, after it gets light out tomorrow, follow the path of purple bricks out to the exit. Once you have reached the exit run over to a friends house until I come get you."_

_I kiss her forehead, and step back placing my hand over my heart in our loving gesture to each other. She returns the gesture with a shaky hand, then disappears down the spiral stairs of the enclosed space. I shut the door and replace the dresser back where it was, careful to make no extra noise._

_The door cracks open just as I am walking away from where Pompeia's hiding, and my father crashes through with a whip in his hand and a look of fury on his face._

_The events that follow were not at all pleasant, and I did not end up seeing my sister for several days. My father whipped me senseless for my disobedience, then locked me in my bedroom for six days. Luckily I had water stored in my room, provided by the bathroom sink and shower, but it was a long six days without a morsel of food. _

_After those horribly long days, I began hoarding extra food in my room just in case the occasion happened again. And it did, several times, but I was conditioned to obey just like the District's were forced to pay for the rebellion._

The memory now is just that, a memory. However, the personal rebellion I began against my father never stopped, and it never will. And although I do not trust Peeta, and especially not Katniss, I have to make the better judgment that Pompeia stands a better chance at life in the protection of "the mockingjay," compared to the life of pain offered to her with my father. So for now I must accept the cards life has dealt us, Pompeia and I, while I try to plan a way to keep her safe.

**So, what do you think? Reviews please? =]**


	16. Chapter 16 What?

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games**_**! **

**A special thank you to everyone who reviewed and added the story for alerts and favorites! Enjoy =]**

**Peeta's POV:**

"I am telling you it was weird, Haymitch. She looked like she was going to vomit all over the table, and Greasy Sae's soup is not _that _bad. Even if you are someone from the Capitol." Katniss directs the statement to Haymitch but everyone-Gale, Haymitch, Katniss' mother, and I-know that it is for anyone to comment on.

"Look sweetheart, are we sure we want to get involved with this girl? I know you want to protect her sister and all, but honestly...Coin hates her guts. And not in the normal hate for the Capitol way, she _really_ loathes that girl. I thought she was going to jump across the table and shove the chicken soup down her throat, while clawing out those strange eyes." Haymitch looks at me, as if to gain my approval of the situation but I just stare at him with a thin lipped expression. He sighs, defeated.

"It is clear that because of Coin's attitude, it is going to be a challenge to keep Athena alive in the arena but we have to try. And I think she can, we just have to put...the odds more in her favor." Katniss snorts at the remark, and I can tell she is still contains cold feelings for Athena and the idea to have her win.

"Katniss, you saw the way Coin acted towards you at dinner last night. How she _dismissed_ you. You cannot honestly say that you did not have a problem with that," Katniss scowls at the memory of last night, and I know she is beginning to come around to my idea.

"Fine. But how is she suppose to last two-seconds in the arena if she cannot even handle a little bowl of Greasy Sae's chicken soup? She will not last long, survival can be the difference between life and death." Katniss looks at me, waiting for me to make an objection but someone beats me to it before I can even form the first word.

"She is a vegetarian," a tiny voice says. We all turn to look at Pompeia, who is leaning against the wall of the kitchen. Appearing out of no where. "The smell of meat, let alone the taste, makes Athena gag." Pompeia looks at all of us with an expression that clearly says, "duh."

"Vegetarian," Katniss says, like the word is foreign on her tongue. And I cannot help but feel the same because food in the District was so hard to come by, let alone being picky about what you want to eat. It was unthinkable.

"Yeah," Pompeia's bright blue eyes look at us like we are crazy. "She does not eat meat. My mother was the same way. It drives my father nuts, like this one time when Athena and I had to attend a party with him, they served roast beef an-" Pompeia bites her lip and stops talking, as if she just realized she was talking and said too much.

"She does not eat meat," Katniss says, slowly. As the rest of us just stare at Pompeia, with a dazed expression on our faces. Unbelievable.

"Well," Pompeia begins, furrowing her brow at all of us. "Yeah. It makes her sick to even think about eating the flesh of an animal."

"Well, all right then." Katniss looks at me, trying to get me to say more on the turn of the conversation but I come up with nothing. I am speechless.

**Athena's POV:**

I am staring out the glass doors of the balcony and up at the cloudy sky-which seems to match my mood-when I here the door jingle and creak open. I do not bother to look up, and pay more attention to the clouds above that I am sure are going to being leaking with their own form of tears.

Someone clears their throat, I still dismiss their presence without so much as an after-thought, but I jump when a hand brushes against my shoulder. A wave of blue crashes into me as I meet the intruders eyes. Peeta.

"Thinking about me?" He smirks, slightly, but is laughing at his own comment. I snort, acting as if he is the last thing on my mind, but inside my heart is pounding like a drum. I wonder if he can hear it? The sound is so loud inside my chest. And his hand is still resting on my shoulder, warm and comforting.

I shake my head at the thought, walk away from him to grab the brush that is sitting on the bureau , and swipe it over the messy locks covering my head. I needed to get away from him. Needed to do something with my hands before they decide to do something foolish and embarrassing.

"So," Peeta starts, his voice taking on a strange tone. Almost...pained. Weird. Did he feel hurt because I walked away from him? That I would not allow him to rest his hand on me. Or, an even better question, did I want him to feel that way?

"So," I reply, not turning around to look at him. Swipe. Swipe. Swipe. I continue smoothing the brush through my hair, waiting for him to say more, and feeling my hand tremble as I raise it with each stroke.

"I was going to show you some camouflage techniques today, which is why I am here."

"Oh," I say, raising my eyebrow and turning to meet his gaze. The blue wave crashes into me again, and I feel my stomach flutter as I realize how near he is to me. I turn eyes to the ground, rise from my seat, and continue. "Right, well, as you wish."

I sneak a quick glance up at Peeta and find him looking at me strangely, like he is trying to figure something out. Then, with a shake of his head, he leads the way out of the door. Once outside the room I am surprised to find no guards waiting to chain me up and walk me to our destination, and the question must have been easily read on my features because Peeta smiles down at me and explains that it is just the two of us. No chains. No guards. No confinement, well, I still am their prisoner but still...

"Don't look so shocked. Not all of us our heathens, that want you under lock and key." Peeta shrugs, smiling a hard smile. I force myself to look away from his beautiful eyes, or else I will surely be trapped into stupidity.

"Where are we going? You said you wanted to teach me camouflage techniques but the training room is that way." I direct the question down the opposite direction that we are going, and gesture that way with my hand.

"Yeah. We are not going to the training area," Peeta says, simply. I can hear the slight smile on his lips as he says the words, and I frown in confusion. We continue down the hall, until we reach a familiar door then Peeta stops and types in a code-which when I suddenly remember why I remember the door because I have been here before. We are going into Peeta's quarters.

"Here," Peeta says, smirking at my confused reaction. I raise an eyebrow at him, allowing my lips to form into a straight line.

"Right..." Peeta's laughs at my enthusiasm-or there lack of-then walks into the kitchen area, waving for me to follow him as the sound of his cane on the flooring echoes like a soundtrack to this bizarre moment.

"Alright," Peeta says, while he rummages around in a cupboards below and starts setting supplies on the table. A rolling pin. Flour. A few cake pans. Eggs. Butter. What the hell is going on? "Let's get started. Shall we?" He asks me, but it is more a rhetorical question because he is tying an apron around his waist and holding one out for me to take. I look at the material like it is going to explode into flames, but grab it carefully from his outstretched palm.

"And what is it we are starting, exactly?" I tie the apron around my waist, peering at him carefully.

"We are baking some cakes," Peeta replies, as if it were an obvious answer. Yeah. Right. Of course. I look at him like he has just suggested I eat a box of rat poisoning because baking is the last thing I would imagine myself doing at a time like this. I am suppose to be training to survive, not learning baking how-to's.

"We are... baking...some cakes," I say, slowly. Even saying the words sound bizarre, as if they do not belong on my tongue or hanging in the air around me.

"Exactly." Peeta splays his hands on the tabletop, with one hand wrapped around a wooden spoon, and waves the spoon for me to come closer. "I learned a lot about camouflage from decorating cakes all my life, so I thought we would start you off there."

"Oh," I say, and everything begins to fall into place as I look at the colored dyes and frosting laid out on the table. Browns and greens. Yellows and reds. And various other colors. Camouflage. Cake decorating. Survival.

I take my first step forward and next thing I know I am close beside Peeta, and the smell of bread and sweetness consumes me.

**So I am thinking on how this camouflage lesson is going to go, what do you guys think? I already have a few ideas but I wanted get every ones opinions. Review please! =]**


	17. Chapter 17 Mistake

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed, I am trying my best to give everyone credit for your support but I have just been crazy busy.**

**How you enjoy this chapter. =]**

**Athena's POV:**

"Do you have that about mixed? Because I just took the one cake out of the oven, so we can put another one in there. Then, we can start putting in flour for another one." Peeta's voice is slightly commanding as he lists off the things to do, while he takes a fresh cake out and sets it on the counter to cool.

"Yes," I reply, blowing at the black strands of my hair that fell into my eyes as I finished turning the mix with a wooden spoon. Passing the mixture to Peeta I watch him analyze it for a moment, do a quick couple turns with the spoon, then nod his approval. I shake my head at him, resisting the urge to crack a smile because to see him in his element is kind of...cute. I know I should not think of him like that but-lets face it-I cannot help it. Besides it is not as if he would ever feel the same about me, he likes girls like Katniss Everdeen not freaks that look like me-pale as a snow, weird eyes, and an unruly black mass of curls for hair.

Yet, even though I know it is dangerous territory, I cannot help but steal a peek at him when he is not looking. Then he looks up and catches me looking at him discretely from underneath my eyelashes, so I busy my hands and tuck some of my hair behind my ear. From the corner of my eye I see him smile slightly, as if laughing at a private joke, and step closer to me-leaving his cane resting on the chair nearby.

I look at him, and find myself unable to break eye contact as he takes another two steps towards me. But I just stand there with a deer-in-the-headlights look, which I am sure is an attractive sight. Not.

"What? Is there something on my face, Snow?" Peeta cracks a smile, his tone teasing and playful.

I turn my back to him, not wanting to play any of his games, and gather some of the things we need to prepare the next bowl of cake batter. My heart skips a beat when I feel heat radiated close on my back, and I feel myself already beginning to blush because I know Peeta is close behind me. All I would have to do is turn and our chests would likely be a breathe apart, and the very image of that causes my pulse to race considerably.

"Athena," Peeta whispers, trying to catch my attention and make me turn around. However, I keep my back to him while my hands fumble to open a bag of flour, and then the bag tears open-spilling flour on the countertop.

"Oops," I say, slightly embarrassed but refusing to meet Peeta's eyes.

"You know, the flours suppose to go in the bowl. Not on the counter and floor." Peeta laughs, lightly, and I swirl around to defend myself without thinking. Sure enough, there is flour sprinkled on the floor below me, and when I look up Peeta is not as close I thought he would be. Though, he is pretty near to me.

Smiling, Peeta moves forward-closer to me-and my heart begins to freak out, then his hand gropes for something behind me while I attempt to fight back the heat rising in my cheeks. Suddenly, Peeta decides to move away slowly and-before I have a chance to object at his statement-my vision becomes clouded with white powder.

Stunned, I stand in silence for a moment, motionless. Did he really just do that? The look on his face, an expression of poorly contained laughter, tells me it is true. Peeta Mellark just threw flour at me.

"Did you-" I stutter, wiping the flour from my eyelids. "Did you just _throw_ flour at me?"

"Maybe," he says, then grins widely. A smile that lights up his entire face, brightening his already shining blue eyes, and I find myself incapable of mustering up a response.

Peeta chuckles, then brings his hand to my cheek and traces his fingertips over my cheekbone. My face burns at his closeness, not to mention his bold actions. But his laughter breaks me out of my silence and shock, so I reach back and grab handfuls of flour with both hands before Peeta even notices. Then-all at once-I flick it all at him.

Time seems to pause as we just stare at each other, completely covered in the white substance. Peeta's face is void of emotion and for a moment fear seeps into my heart because I may have just made a very dumb decision. Then, he leans forward and a grin breaks out on his serious face.

"You are so going to wish you did not do that, Snow." Before I have the chance to respond, or even think to respond, Peeta pours the remainder of the bag of flour over my head. I gasp, and my reflexes take over so I push him into the counter. Peeta stumbles but manages to regain his balance, and begins to laugh while coming towards me again.

"What's wrong, Snow? You look good in white," he whispers, his eyes searching mine.

"You should not have done that," I say, softly. The blueness of his eyes captures my gaze and I cannot seem to break away, even if I wanted to. Meanwhile, he takes another step closer, his feet flushed with mine and his warmth radiating all around me. Peeta is so close, so damn close to me.

He bends forward, his lips brushing against my cheek, the light touch sending shivers through my body-causing me to tremble. "I probably should not do this," Peeta whispered, his sweet breathe speaking into my ear and causing another bout of shivers to quake throughout my body. Then, he captures my mouth in his.

He kissed me gently, carefully, but I did not want gentle-not after all the time that I spent sending my desire for him below. I reached up and grasped his shirt, knotting it in my fists, and pulling him against me. Hard.

Peeta groans, softly, a sound that echoed low in his throat as his arms curled around me and pressed me to him.

My hands travel over the expanse of his chest as I kiss his lips, it is a kiss filled with hunger as we gasp for a breathe before crashing our lips together again. Peeta's hand is buried in my hair, gripping the strands as his lips devour mine, and we slowly slide to the flour-covered floor. I never anticipated Peeta's kisses being so urgent and full of desire, but as his teeth nipped at my bottom lip for entrance I cannot say I complained. His mouth tasted better than anything I could ever imagine, the scent being a mere allure to the sweet warmth of his mouth.

His hands leave my hair, one traveling to cup the side of my face while the other runs over my side to my back, and presses me closer to him.

We rolled on the floor, tangled up in each other, and getting covered in flour in the process-still kissing. I could feel the heat radiating off of Peeta, burning through his clothes and mine, but somehow I just could not get enough. His shirt found its way on the floor, discarded, as my fingers explored the lean muscle of his body as he explored my mouth. My hands prick over the scars covering his chest to his back, perfect imperfections that ran over his body like raised, thin wires. But like my own scars I considered them to be a piece of himself, history cut into his body, and proof from a life of war.

His hands brush underneath my shirt, and my mind snaps back to reality and the fact that I do not want this man to see any of my scars or know my secrets. What the hell am I doing? I push away from Peeta suddenly, and stare at him in bewilderment. What the hell is he doing? He does not like me, he likes girls like Katniss Everdeen.

I back away from him slowly, avoiding his blue eyes that would surely suck me back into this web of lies and deception. He cannot honestly like me, I am just a freak from the Capitol. I am his enemy. And yet the tingling sensation of his lips still lingers on my mouth, the taste of his sweetness on my tongue.

"Athena," Peeta whispers my name softly. Surprised by his tone, I look up and find him looking at me with a hesitant expression on his face-flecks of flour streaking his cheek and forehead. He looked so beautiful.

"We should-" I bite my lip, taking a deep breathe before letting it out slowly. "We should get back to working on the cakes, you still need to show me the decorating techniques." I rise up from the flour-covered floor and turn back to the mixing bowl, busying my hands and concentrating hard on the ingredients in order to not see the look on Peeta's face.

I hear him sigh, a soft and tortured sound that causes my stomach to clench. I hear him struggle to rise from his spot on the floor, grasping the counter for balance as he scuffles around.

"Athena...I-"

"Do not worry about it. We can just pretend it never happened, a mistake." I mix the ingredients in the bowl, grasping the handle so tightly my hand cramps in pain but I keep turning it. The silence that follows is almost unbearable, and it feels like hours before he finally responds.

"Right. A mistake. Exactly what I was thinking," he says, his voice strange and almost strangled.

Then, we go back through the motions. Quiet and tense for a while until we start decorating the cakes because then Peeta is in his element again. He shows me how to construct masses of frosting to look like a meadow, then a tree, and we keep going through the motions.

Meanwhile, he does not know how badly I want to brush the speck if flour remaining on his bottom lip, even after we cleaned ourselves up and the flour on the floor. He does not know. He does not know how much I did not regret kissing him back, despite the conflicts between us and our people-the Capitol and the District. How much I want him to ignore my comment of it being a mistake and kiss me again, not because he is playing games with me but because he honestly cares and wants to. He does not know. He does not know, but I do.

***Sigh* will Peeta ever be happy, could he be happy with Athena? Will Athena ever trust Peeta? I don't know. Tell me what you think and review? Please! =]**


	18. Chapter 18Cannot Get Out of My Head

**Thank you for all the reviews, sorry it has been taking so long to update!**

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games**_**!**

**Peeta's POV:**

A mistake. That is all I ever seem to be, and I am tired of it. I know it was stupid to kiss her but I just could not help myself. I have wanted to since the moment we first talked on the balcony. She looked so confident and strong, but in her eyes I saw so much fear. Fear that I wanted to erase, yet, I had no clue where to start. She only reminds me a little of Katniss, I can see that now, and she is somehow _softer_ than Katniss' hard-edged character.

But I thought she would have wanted to kiss me by the way she acts around me, the way her eyes sometimes linger too long on my face. On my lips...clearly I was wrong. But then again, why did she kiss me back so deeply? With so much force and intensity. God, just thinking about it...I want to groan. It was so much different from the kisses I shared with Katniss, or any girl from the District for that matter.

The way she grasped onto me like I was her life-support, and she was already fading. I did not even notice that we had slid to the floor, or how my shirt came off. All I saw was her. Athena with her cold, soft hands on the hot skin of my chest and shoulders. Athena, with her mouth tasting like apples and honey. Athena. Strong and strangely beautiful with her dark hair that curls down her back. With her skin flushed and contrasting her pale skin, with her body curving towards mine-fitting perfectly in my arms as I held her close. With those eyes. Those strange, golden eyes that cut through my heart, and make me draw near with out thinking.

How could I stand there and say that it all was a mistake? Why did I accept it? Like it was what I was thinking too, like I regretted it.

But it is not just her appearance that draws me to her, it is everything. I understand that now, I am attracted to the person she is-whoever that may be. I like the way she is protective of her sister. I like the way her eyes turn down to the ground, in careful steps on the balcony.

I will just have to pretend it mean nothing, that I do not feel anything for her. That I don't like her. Do not like the way her hair falls in her face, or that delicate flush of heat that inches on her cheeks when she is embarrassed.

Tomorrow it will begin. Slipping my hands behind my head, while laying in bed on top of the covers, I know it will not be as easy as I am thinking in my head. With that, my mind drifts off into sleep. Unsure what tomorrow will bring.

**Athena's POV:**

After a night of tossing and turning, I walk to the training area tired and slightly aggravated but I have decided that I will tell Peeta the truth. That it was no a mistake for us to kiss, and that I did not regret the warm feeling that spread over me as we rolled on the kitchen floor-covered in flour. No matter how he felt, even if he felt it was a mistake, I needed tell him before my feelings get in the way of me staying alive and protecting my sister. Because that is what matters most, and I cannot afford to lose sight of that.

The guards unchain the locks from my wrists and push me forward, into the room, and slam the door shut with cold, silent expressions. Staring around the room, I cannot find Peeta anywhere but I see Katniss and Brutus practicing artery and knife throwing. Then, the sound of the door creeks open and all the tributes-lead by their mentors-file into the room. The last to enter is Peeta. The sight of him causes a feverous beating in my chest and a blush to creep up on my face at the thought of us kissing, and the touch of his hands on my skin.

"Tributes!" Peeta's voice causes an excited shiver down my spine, while the crowd of Capitol tributes hush their nervous chattering. Suddenly, I am overwhelmed by the image of him hovering above me with his muscled chest and arms enveloping me in his delicious heat. Blue eyes flashing, and my name formed on his sweet tongue.

"Each one of you will preform a specific talent that will benefit you in the arena, like the original Games it will be determined based on a score of one to ten. Ten being the best, one the worst. Also, your fate rests in the hands of the Gamekeepers who will be analyzing you. The process is not open to the public, however, the mentors for each team color will sit in on their tributes session. With that said." Peeta waves his hand forward, behind the crowd, and automatically the room is cut in half by a thick wall of metal and a door that croaks like it is moaning in pain from the effort of opening.

"We will start with blue and end with white, the order is announced on the wall beside the entrance and I am sure you all can read . That is all." Peeta walks off the stage, without even looking in my general direction, and walks over to Katniss. Will he place his hand on my shoulder and wish me good luck once white is called? What even is my talent? With all these emotional thoughts, my mind seemed to stray away from the key task-my survival.

I tear my gaze from Peeta and stare down at my shoes, determination seeps into my bones as I try to narrow what I am good at. With a sharp intake of breathe, I realize I come up with nothing. Nada. Zilch. I am useless.

It is not that I am completely talentless, I mean I am good at a lot of things that Peeta and I practiced but I am not confident on one particular thing. I love to run, but its not exactly a game-changing talent. I mean pretty much everyone is born with the ability, and how am I suppose to demonstrate such a thing. Run back and forth in front of everyone as fast as I can, until they grow bored within the first minute? Yeah, because that will work. Right.

The line is dwindling in front of me, only red and yellow are left, and the thought makes my stomach begin to clench. I am running out of time. Fencing? My father and I fought until I beat him, and I was fairly good but...

Only yellow is left, then Brutus will walk in before me. Could I paint a camouflage like Peeta? No, I am not that good. Fighting? Maybe.

A hand caresses my shoulder, slides over and down my back, and closes on my hip with a painful squeeze. I jump at the intruding touch and turn to look at a pair of eyes, clouded with a look of hate. Brutus smirks at me, licks his lips in a predatory way, and comes so near to me that I smell the scent of his shampoo. Flowers, something close to roses. I resist the urge to gag, and hold myself still with tension as his breathe picks the skin on my neck below my ear. He is trying to scare me, make me flinch away in fear, but I refuse to show him submission. I am not afraid. I am not afraid. I am not afraid.

"Feel that, Princess? The chill running its way down your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck jerk in fear. How about..." His hands bite into the skin of my arms, gooseflesh immediately breaks out over my skin. "that? Have you ever been touched by a man? I bet not. Just wait until we are alone in the arena," his voice is loud in my ear. I have to hold back a shiver at his words. And his cold, rough touch.

Determination fills me as I stare him in the eyes, making sure not to break eye contact, as his grip tightens on my arms. Pain rips into my body, my arms flaming from the pressure and tension between muscle and bone. I do not blink.

When I was about fourteen, a neighbor on our block had this temperamental dog named Malice, on my way to school it always growled from behind the fenced enclosure. A group of little boys in front of me always threw stones at it, which made Malice snap his teeth in fury. One day, I was at a farther distance from the horrid group of boys to tell them to stop torturing the animal so when I saw the distant blur of the boys climbing over another neighbors fence. When I finally passed the house that always had Malice behind the white-picket-fence I was met with a hushed silence, at that I knew something was _very_ wrong. My ears met no sounds of growling, or the snapping of teeth. Then, I saw the gate of the fence and how it creaked back and forth-open.

I remember gripping the fence as tension seeped into my body, then I heard the scratching of claws on the pavement and a low growl. Malice.

Staring at it in the eyes had caused a surge of terror to zip through my veins, and as it edged closer I knew there was no way I could outrun it. Instead I slowly got on the ground, down on all fours, and closed my eyes as the dog's breathe billowed over my face. I breathed in and out, slowly, waiting for it to close its jaws around me-sink its teeth into my flesh and tear.

Then, I opened my eyes, and stared it in the eyes without blinking. It growled with its teeth barred, but I refused to let my gaze waver for even a second. I waited for him to turn on me, unleash all its power and lunge for my throat or face-kill me or leave me mangled and bloody. However, instead, Malice stepped back on unsteady paws and his tail turning down and burrowing between his legs. He layed down in front of me, paws extended like a low bow, and whimpered at me with sad eyes. I had gambled with dominance and won, despite the fear that filled my heart and screamed in my mind.

Now, with Brutus, it is the same thing only so much worse because I know he will not lay down before me in submission. He is not a dog. He has the capability to try to destroy me, holds the power to crush me in his arrogant hands. And he knows it.

"Oh, Bruno. I believe your time is ticking away." I ignore the searing pain in my arms, and nod towards the retreating girl from the yellow team. She just exited the judging room, I notice her from the corner of my eye as I continue to stare Brutus in the eyes.

His teeth flash, throwing a scowling white smile in my face, as his hands tighten and I resist the urge to cry out by gritting my teeth. "I believe you are right, Princess." His lips near my cheek, to my nose, to my lips, before he releases me with a grin and walks through the door. He leaves me in silence with a wink before shutting the door with a click, it is then I become sick and relaxed all at once.

I stare down at my arms and bite my lip in pain and slight-shock. On each arm is a red hand-print, so detailed and defined that I am sure it will bruise on my white skin. Bastard. However, I cannot ponder on this because I desperately need to figure out what it is I am going to do to prove my worth in this Hunger Games. But what? What am I going to do?

It feels like seconds pass, but Brutus walks out with a smug look on his face and saunters passed me with a smirk. It is my turn. I rise from my spot, my legs shaking and feeling like jelly, and with a deep breathe I square my shoulders and open the door.

**Opinions? Thoughts? Review, please! =]**


	19. Chapter 19 War Between Heart and Mind

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**Thank you **_**HermioneandMarcus, LookUpAboveTonight, killerr-millerr, Textcrazy, bbymojo, and anyone else I missed for reviewing! And everyone who made this your favorite story =] I will try to update sooner!**_

**Athena's POV:**

The District officials are behind a glass panel, watching with cold and calculating eyes, while Katniss and Peeta stand nearby with arms folded-mirror stances of standoffish demeanors. I try to catch Peeta's eye but he refuses to look at me, and mumbles something to Katniss-who then smirks and cuts into me with her grey eyes.

Staring around the room, I notice everything is lined up in a training course, and I look back at the District officials behind the glass and frown in confusion.

"You will be completing the course in as least amount of time as you can, and with a signature "flare" of character, if you will." The voice seems to come from all around me, and if I was not looking at the man addressing me I would have thought I was going crazy or slightly paranoid, or both.

I look at Peeta for some type of explanation, any hint of what it is I am suppose to do, but when his blue eyes skip over me I feel my stomach drop. The emptiness in his eyes, it is like icy knives burrowing deep into my retina, and I throw him a confused look in response. Did he change his mind? Maybe. It could be that he decided the kiss really was a mistake to him, at least.

"Miss Snow," the man's voice addresses me, breaking me out of my muddled thoughts. My gaze snaps to the audience behind the glass, while my heart thunders in my ears. It is so loud, it is hard to concentrate.

"Miss Snow. I suggest you take your place by one of the black lines, and prepare to begin the course. Your choice will be analyzes for how quick your thinking process works, in addition to how fast and agile you are in strength. You may begin." I stare back at the cold, calculating eyes of the man speaking before turning towards the course.

Which way would be quickest and most practical? My eyes graze over the path to my left, complete with a straight angle to build up into a sprint before launching your body onto a high-altitude metal beam and planting my feet on a ground that-if you look close enough to detail-is steaming. Peering to my right, I swallow, because everything in it requires rigorous climbing and jarring heights that surely would cause me to fall from dizziness or throw up. Or both.

Well, the right is out of the question-so I look to my last option and make my decision because the District officials have put the timer on. My time is already dwindling, and I have not even started yet. I run for the middle.

It feels good to run again, my muscles burst alive from the pent up tension as I build up into a sprint to haul myself up on the first beam. Suddenly, a blade-sharp and jagged-closes in front of me. Blocking my path as my pulse jumps, the thing could have sliced me in half. My life could have ended, and I am not even in the arena yet. Just like that.

Despite the minor conflict, I cannot dwell, I must keep going and my mind races with the bindings of a plan. I notice the surface of a body of water coming in front of me, and know better then to trust what lurks below the murky blue depths. Instead, I free-fall onto the hanging rope of the left course-which is a gamble to try to grab because if I fail my body will surely be met with whatever unpleasantness that the steaming ground offers. My left hand grasps the rope, a rough burning rushes over my body and licks up my palm to my fingertips. However, the pain subsides once I swing forward and launch myself onto a higher beam. My body quakes with dizziness, my vision momentarily blurred, but I am determined to remain focused so I swallow my doubts and fears. I plunge forward, feeling my feet hitting solid surface, and refuse to look down to the drop below.

I search for the finish of the course, and my stomach drops at the fact that the middle path contains no access to the finish-line. As a result, without allowing myself to think about the consequences, I jump onto the path at my right. My legs come up sort on the jump and pain explodes into my jaw and body as I throw myself into the metal beams side, and I am hanging by just the grip of my fingers. In. Out. I breathe to keep from screaming, to keep from throwing up from this sick situation because I cannot give up with so much on the line. I think of Pompeia, think of wanting to prove myself to these people, that I am more than just some monster's daughter. I pull myself up and over the beam, while my arms continue to shake.

Then I am running again, fast and hard. Burst of flames shoots out from the ground and at me from the sides, but I roll away from the heat. My chest is heaving, but I have to get up and build up into another sprint so I take off down the metal platform.

And then I see it. There it is. The finish line.

It was hidden behind a large span of vegetation, a tangle of trees and bushes concealing the red line marking the end of the course. However to get to it I would have to jump, but the height is not so bad so I dive. Dive with my arms splayed and my heart soaring, eyes closed, I roll onto the dirt-covered ground.

A dull pain enters my left ankle and I cringe as I rise to my feet, shifting all my weight to my right foot and straightening myself to face the District official's-who stare at me with a variety of expressions. Surprise. Disgust. Awe. I want to smile.

"That will be all, Miss Snow." I hear the mans voice vaguely and I turn to search Peeta's expression with hopeful eyes, but my stomach drops in disappointment. The guards surround me and I shuffle my feet with a heavy heart as I am half-dragged away.

I try to resist looking at Peeta before I leave the room but my eyes hunger for just a glance, and instantly I regret it. Peeta's blue eyes are cold and expressionless, his mouth a straight line. It is the look everyone from the District gives me, the look of loathing and disgust.

"Mellark," I whisper softly, but Peeta is no longer within distance to hear or see me so I bite my lip in disappointment as the guards share a look-laughing at me.

They walk me down until we reach my chamber, unlock my chains, and shove me inside. I hear their mocking laughter and footsteps fade down the hall, meanwhile, I scowl at the door and wish I could just punch something.

My anger builds as my shame increases and by the time a knock strikes the door I am a mess of rage and frustration, I storm over to the door, and when it opens I am clenching my fists behind my back. I close my eyes, and focus on my breathing so I do not make the mistake of punching whoever it is in the mouth.

"Athena," the voice is Peeta's, already I know this and I have not been around him all that much. It is pathetic. And it makes me even more angry with myself, for my stupidity.

"Hey," I feel warm palms on my cheeks and my eyes open in surprise. I thought he was disgusted with me? "Hey, Athena. What's wrong?" His voice is like a tender caress, and it confuses me. Had I imagined his coldness? No, I don't believe so.

I jerk back from him, needing the space to think away from his close proximity. His blue eyes stare at me with an intense silence, quiet and calculating my expression carefully.

"Hey, are you worried about your session results? Is that it? Because you did fine, Athena. Really. Better than fine, in fact, I would not be surprised if you got a high score." His eyes rove over my face, as if waiting for a crack in my cool composure.

"No." I fold my arms across my chest, needing to do something with my hands rather then have them hanging at my sides-itching to touch the man standing in front of me. "Well, yes, but no."

"No? Then what is it?" He asks the questions with such softness that I cannot help but look into his eyes, and instantly I am swallowed whole. Meanwhile, I feel his fingertips under my chin and he moves in close enough that I smell the sweetness of whatever he had baked earlier today.

"I hav-" I clear my throat, in attempt to make my voice not sound so squeaky. "I have been thinking."

Peeta raises his eyebrow at me, leaning in closer. I swear if he listened hard enough he would be able to hear my heart beating loudly in my chest, it sounds so loud and quick...like a bird frantically flapping its wings inside me.

"Oh? And what have you been thinking, exactly?"

My hands begin to tremble and I press them against me, my arms still folded across my chest. However, if he noticed my shaky state, he certainly did not show it. He just continued to look at me, patiently awaiting my response.

Suddenly, a burning flame of determination filled me, and I dropped my arms to my sides so quick that Peeta took at startled step backwards. I smirk, hiding my nervousness, and take a confident step forward to close the space between us. I never realized how tall he was, before he had been leaning back against the kitchen counter so I had not calculated his full height.

I tilt my head up, and rise to my tip-toes. His gaze flicks to my lips and I smile a nervous, shy smile before I whisper to him.

"I lied when I said it was a mistake to kiss you." I lean in, brushing my lips on his cheek, and take a hesitant step back. Then Peeta's eyes widen a fraction, as if realizing what I had confessed, and grabbed my face desperately between his hands.

"I have a confession as well," his blue eyes darken to almost a midnight blue, clouding with something I do not quite understand.

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Peeta presses his mouth to mine, urgently, and I momentarily forget how to breathe. He slides his hands down to my neck, thumbs pressing hot and strong into my jaw-line as I resist the urge to sigh in pleasure. He presses closer, pushing me back and trapping me between him and the wall. Then he pulls back, pressing his forehead to mine, and all I see is blue.

"I lied too," he says huskily. "I have wanted to kiss you ever since that time on the balcony, when you told me about your name and I asked you what you were afraid of."

I stare at him in silence, stunned by his confession. I thought he would have laughed at my feelings, or lied to try and get under my skin or manipulate me, but-as I look at him-I read truth in his words. Or have I just gone soft with this man, and messed up my calculation.

However, call it hormones or whatever, I find myself not caring as much about my wellbeing and since it does not put Pompe at any risk...I do not see any problem in having a little fun with this goregous man. Well, actually there is a lot wrong with it, but...god, maybe I was going crazy. Just thinking about this all was giving me a headache.

"Is that so?" I smirked, but inside the war in my head and heart waged on because my heart is smiling like an idiot but my head is screaming.

**Soooo tell me what you think? =] Review!**


	20. Chapter 20Strange

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**Thank you HermioneandMarcus(as always your praise is much appreciated!), Cupcakelover56(I actually like Katniss, but I do agree Peeta needs to be appreciated. All in all, I am glad you like it. =]), and bbymojo(I know it might seem confusing now but hold on! It will make sense later, I promise. =])**

**Enjoy!**

**Athena's POV:**

For what seemed like hours we kissed and talked, until the night closed over us and only the sound of an incoming storm rained down around us through the balcony doors. The power had gone out, due to the thunderstorm thrashing around outside, and Peeta had told the guards he would make sure I would not escape my containment area. So we were left alone. Idiots.

All the coldness I had thought I had seen from Peeta in the training room was nonexistent. It was almost like I had imagined it all. I did not know what to think.

Currently, we were laying on the bed-on our backs-with our fingertips touching with hesitance in the darkness. Flashes of light, caused by the lightning, lights up the room in bursts and I see his dark eyes look at me in a way I do not yet understand. It seems almost gentle and...tender.

"Your eyes..." he trails off as light flashes into the room and glints over his face, the effect demonstrating a sharpness that was both handsome and dangerous. He brings a hand up and skims my cheek, his fingertips hovering just below my eyes. I say nothing in response, temporarily rendered speechless.

"They are so strange."

My eyes skitter away from his and my cheeks heat up despite my attempt to appear aloof, embarrassment warms my body from my head to my toes. Yet, I still remain silent.

"Hey," he murmurs, cupping my face and tilting it up to his own. Forcing me to look him in his dark eyes, that I feel myself getting pulled under by his captivating gaze. "They are beautiful. So strange-I have never seen anyones like yours-but they are beautiful."

Silence.

"I noticed Snow doesn't have the color either, do you get it from your mother? Or maybe a relative, like a great grandparent or something." Peeta pressed further on the subject, clearly not getting my message of not wanting to talk about how I look different from a lot of those in the Capitol-especially my family.

"I do not resemble anyone in my family." Even to my own ears my voice sounds tight, void of emotion and distant. But it was true, I did not look like anyone from the Snow family tree, or from my mother's family. If I did not know the real reason behind my unique appearance I would say I was adopted, or something along those lines, but the true is actually far worse. It was also something I was not sure I felt comfortable telling Peeta about, not now at least.

"Athena," he says softly, his warm breathe spilling on my cheek in a delicious scent that causes me to move closer to him. "It is okay, you do not have to explain, just know that you can tell me anything. Honestly."

"Um," I hesitate. And I feel his hand grasp onto my own, his fingers tangling with mine in a comforting touch. Suddenly, I find myself wanting to tell him so I squeeze his hand and take a deep breathe.

"I use to look like my mother, a long time ago." I push away the urge to bite my lip, nervously.

"Use to?" Curiosity burns in his eyes as his face splits into a hesitant smile.

"Yeah-um-Pompeia, she looks just like my mother with her blue eyes, blonde hair, and beautifully paled skin. Classic china doll looks, beautiful..."

"But?" He looks at me intently, his eyes patient and gorgeous.

"Years ago, when I was five to be exact, I used to look just like my mother-a lot like how Pompeia looks now. _But_ that was before my father decided that my appearance did not match my...potential." I felt Peeta stiffen at my words, while his eyes widened a fraction and his lips parted in a stunned silence.

"_So_," I continued in determination, and turned to stare at the ceiling. "While my mother thought I was in school, my father took me to one of his labs-the ones where they create the mutations."

"No," he murmurs softly. Peeta's hand curls in fury, and a dull pain shots through my hand and travels up my arm. Then his eyes widen in realizing how hard he was clenching my hands, which have turned pinkish-purple from lack of circulation. Acting as if my skin has suddenly turned into a dangerous flame, Peeta jerks his hand back as if he has been burned.

"Sorry. I did not mean to be so rough with you," he whispers, fiddling with the blanket laid out under us. A look of shame was clear on his features.

"It is alright. Really," I reply quietly. It is not the first time someone has put their hands on me, however, it is the first time someone apologized and was ashamed of causing me any harm. Hesitantly, Peeta peered at me with a pleading expression and I placed my hand over his in what I hoped was a comforting touch. His eyes soften and he laces his fingers with mine, a slight smile turning up the side of his mouth. So handsome.

"Please. Continue with what you were saying. I will try not to interrupt, I promise." I look at him, uneasily, for a moment and sigh before obliging to his request.

"My mother was at a time in life where she no longer trusted my father, especially with me, so after my birthda-I mean-when I was five she kept me by her side all the time. However, she could not break the laws of education and that is where my father came in. I was in my kindergarten class, art hour to be exact, when he pulled me out for a 'family situation'."

"And your teachers just let that happen?" he asked, with a slight look of disgust.

"Yes. Look, you have to understand, the people of the Capitol worship and fea-worshiped and feared-him so they would do pretty much do whatever he asked of the them. No matter the circumstance. I know it seems ridiculously naive, that is exactly what it is actually, but the citizens of the Capitol did not know it to be any other way."

I glance at him to see if he understands, and find his face in a mix between puzzlement and contained anger. Without thinking-which seems to be my case for a lot of my time with Peeta lately-I gently place my hand on his arm. His arm stiffens and for a moment I feel hard muscle before he relaxes with an effort. Peeta turns his head, turns on his side with some difficulty because of his leg, and stares down at me with one elbow propped up.

"Does it bother you?" I ask quietly.

"The people of the Capitol? Yeah, a little, but their more like ignorant children who do not know the consequences of their actions." His face pulls into an amused smirk at my reaction, which I am sure is lovely considering my embarrassment because I had not been talking about the Capitol when I asked him if it bothered him. However, I did not exactly ask the question out-right so how could he possibly have known I had been asking about his leg.

Honestly, sometimes it seemed like I could bearly form a proper sentence around this man. How he was interested in me at all was a complete mystery.

"But that is not what you meant, was it?" he asks, probably already knowing the answer.

"No, I-um-I was asking about your leg. If it... bothered you?" I winced at how stupid that sounded coming out of my mouth, it had sounded perfectly fine when I reviewed it in my head. But now...it sounded so dumb when I heard it reach my own ears.

"Oh, my leg." He smiles slightly, looking thoughtful.

"Um, you don't have to answer that if you do not want to." At this point all I want to do is crawl in a hole and hide, like maybe for the rest of my life.

"No."

"No. Alright that is fine, I should not have imposed on your personal busi-" Peeta interrupted me by saying my name and placed his hand on the side of my neck, his fingertips brushing the back of my neck and causing a chill to run down my body. A sensation I felt it all the way down to my toes.

"Athena," he repeats, looking down at me with that smile. "I meant no it does not bother me. It use to-especially when it first happened-but I have had a few years to adjust to it. Don't get me wrong it is a pain to deal with sometimes, but it is something I just had to learn to accept."

"I'm sorry," I say seriously. And I mean it because if it was not of us-the Capitol and my father-he would still have so much.

"I appreciate the sentiment but it is okay." His expression turns grim and serious. "I mean it is not like you were the one who hacked of my leg, or stabbed me to cause it to be in such a bad condition that it needed to be amputated."

"But still..." I search the ceiling for the correct words, until Peeta runs hid fingertips down my neck to my collar-bone, to my shoulder, then down my arm. Tiny shivers course through my body. My body coming alive with electricity under his touch.

"Why?" I look at him, stunned.

"Why? Why were you not the one to cripple me?" he laughed, a sound that was both light and bitter.

"Why are you so nice and-" I groped for the correct word, mildly frustrated. "And _interested_ in me?"

His face turns up in a smirking smile. "I'll tell you about it sometime. Maybe when I figure it out myself." His eyes cloud with secrecy, hinting that he is not tell the whole truth that he is letting on. With a heavy heart the comment make me think of when my mother use to give me the comment "I will tell you when you are older", but that is almost ridiculous to think about.

"So you never finished with your story, did Snow really..." he broke off, not wanting or knowing how to finish.

"Hack up his five-year-old daughter to look like a freak?" I threw out, casually with some bitterness sprinkled in. With a sigh, before he could reply, I continued.

"Look. My father is crazy, like bloodthirsty, out-of-his-mind, evil crazy. And I was his first born, the warrior and heir to all his 'glory and success'. He thought he could control me and make me into whatever his crazed mind came up with, even if it meant altering who I was. So he began with my appearance."

There was a long pause, a silence that weighed down the room and covered every curve of the room. It was like it was filling up with water, the tension slowly drowning us both.

"What color were your eyes before?" His voice was barely a whisper, almost inaudible.I stare at him with a tight-lipped expression, the old memories of my mother sobbing and staring at me like I was a monster seeped into my mind. A memory I thought I had long ago repressed.

"Does it matter?" I look at him, curious to read his reaction. His face stares back at me, open and anticipating my response. Patient and waiting, like he actually gives a damn about what I have to say.

"Yes," Peeta says calmly. He grabs my hand with both of his, silently studying the lines of my palms and tracing the slight curves of my fingers.

"Blue," I whisper, looking down at our hands together. "They were blue, like Pompeia's."

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	21. Chapter 21 Cold

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games**_**!**

**Athena's POV:**

The next morning I am filled to the brim with lightness and happiness. Despite the constant worry over my sister, the events of last night cause a smile to push its way up onto my face that refuses to be suppressed. One even resisted being forced back as the guards chained my wrists and escorted me to the training room, where we would be finishing a final test-in front of everyone-and viewing the scores.

But I would be seeing Peeta again in a matter of minutes, and the smile I fought back creeped back onto my face every time my thoughts trailed to him. I even smile and wave at the guards as they hand me over to the District officials overseeing the training evaluations, and they stare back at me with "she is losing it" looks on their faces.

"What are you so happy about today, Princess? Are you just that eager to see me again." Even Brutus' stupid, intimidating comments cannot force away the smile plastered on my face. He scowls at me, noticing how unaffected I am to his words.

"Why yes, Bruno, I just could not contain my excitement for the chance to be graced with your _spectacular_ presence." A smile still touching my lips as I spoke, while searching the room for Peeta. Will he come over and wish me good luck before all this starts, and maybe even give me a kiss on the cheek? When my eyes find his, will they light up in that secret, intense way they always do when we are near one another? The same way we looked at each other last night, as the darkness surrounded our bodies on the bed. I feel my stomach flutter at the memory of his hands gliding over my arms to my back in order to press me firmly against him, so that it felt like we shared the same body heat.

Suddenly, through all the crowd of Capitol tributes and District official's, I see him. My smile widens and I wait to feel the spark that flashes between us when we look at each other. He walks closer, ever closer and I swear by this point I can smell the sweetness of bread or whatever baked thing he made this morning. I want to whisper to him, something witty that will make his serious face crack the small smile I have admired so often.

And then he looks at me...and suddenly I do not feel like smiling anymore. In fact, the smile I had been fighting fades away into my heavy state of frustration and confusion. His blue eyes, once so full of dark intensity for me, shoot through me with a chilling look that makes me freeze. Then he continues walking without so much as a backward glance in my general direction.

I do not understand. I stare down at my hands, frowning. Though, what did I expect? He had succeeded in exactly what I feared, he'd made a fool out of me and pulled the wool over my eyes. The sad thing was I had seen it coming, and this was not the first time he had given me that look. The expression that screamed how much he did not care about me, the look all the District gives me-one full of loathing and disgust. Why would any of what we had shared in a cloak of darkness matter? Just because we kissed, held each other, and spoke like equals does not mean everything-or anything- had changed. The District hates the people of the Capitol, no exceptions.

But he had seemed so honest when he told me that he liked me, that he had wanted to kiss me all this time. Maybe he realized he had made a mistake in kissing me, that he did not really like me. I glare at the floor, it was all so damn confusing.

"Attention," Peeta's voice booms over the crowd and stimulates the audience into a hushed silence. "Everyone is here today to be evaluated in a final testing, it is to see how each one of you demonstrate the ability to work under pressure, or if you lack it. You will complete a short course in front of everyone before you today, and will show your capabilites-and/or limitations-to quick-thinking, reflexes, and strength. It is up to you to prove those abilities, and to prove yourself."

His voice fades off into the crowd and it is a voice that captivates anyone who listens, and I understand fully the force of how much my father wanted to either control or destroy this man. He had a powerful voice, one that held a crowd like no other person could. He is amazing. And he refuses to acknowledge me, or-and how I hate to admit it-my heart, which at this point feels like it is being crushed by a huge weight that is sitting on my chest.

A list of tributes names are presented and it is half-way through that my name is finally called, and silence follows my careful steps to the beginning of the course. Then it all beings, and I am running again.

The track is similar to the other training arena, however, when I reach the end I find something that causes my stomach to rise up in my throat.

A climbing rope.

The object to this course of action is to climb the rope as fast as possible until reaching the arrow hanging at the top. Then, once on the ground with the arrow safe and intact, you are too send it into the finishing target. So far, many have completed this task.

As I climb I try not to think, or allow myself to consider the trembling entering my hands and arms. Hell, the trembling was everywhere.

Then, as I hung up in the air with half of the rope staring down at me, I knew I was in trouble. The world swirl around me and I lost grip of the rope I was clinging to, meanwhile, bile rose up in my mouth and I was sure I was going to vomit while my body free-fell into the air below me.

I waited for my body to crash hard into the ground, to feel the horrible impact, and then it all stopped. My body had hit impact and I felt a sense of deja vu from when Peeta had caught me from falling before during training. And when I looked into the face of the person who had saved me I was almost certain it would be a pair of bright blue eyes that gaze back.

However that was not what happened because instead of blue eyes my eyes perceived grey. Instead, to my ultimate surprise, I met the eyes of Katniss Everdeen. To say I was stunned as she placed me carefully on my feet would be an understatement. A _very _big understatement.

"Snow!" My attention snaps to the angry yell of-to my further surprise-Peeta Mellark. "What the hell was that, Snow?" He storms up to me and I feel Katniss stiffen beside me, as if she too is wary of what is about to happen.

"I..." I trail off, clearing my throat, and realize everyone in the room is watching me. Watching me fail and be humiliated. "I could not-"

"You were weak that is what you were, all that training and you choked under the pressure. It was pathetic, _you _are being pathetic!" His scream echoes in the room, and I turn to look out at the crowd. Everyone now knows how pathetic I am, how weak, and I feel something rise up within me. At first I think it is the humiliation of this situation getting the best of me, that it was making me emotional. However, I realize too late that my control has reached its limit. Something in me breaks. Snaps.

I look at Peeta and I am so angry, so damn angry. My fist hurls out with a quickness that he-or anyone else watching-was ready for and my knuckles strike the adams-apple in his throat. So hard that the impact it shuts him up immediately, and he bends over coughing. Choking and heaving. Groaning.

He stares up at me, bent over and holding his hand to his throat. A cross between incredulous and pained look is on his face. I stare back with my chest still heaving from my slowly dissolving anger.

With one last look at Peeta, I walk over to the door in the engulfed silence, and knock twice before the guards agree to take me away.

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	22. Chapter 22 Pathetic

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**Thank you to LookUpAboveTonight!**

**Athena's POV:**

I thought he would come. Some small part of me thought Peeta would be at my door tonight to explain why he had acted the way that he did. He did not. So I took a shower, letting the steam and hot water consume me as I tried to clear my head and replay what happened. What went so terribly wrong.

In the back of my mind I knew I should fear some sort of punishment that was to come for hitting a District official but, frankly, I did not care. My mind was too preoccupied with replaying and replaying the words Peeta had said, along with his coldness.

_You are pathetic. _

The water washed over me, hot and cleansing as the steam curled up and around me. I inhale and place my hands on the shower wall. The heat of the water fills my cheeks and travels slowly down my neck, down my sides and legs, until pooling at my toes.

_You are pathetic._

My body quakes and suddenly I realize that it is not just steam and hot water running down my cheeks. I trail my fingertips over my eyes and down my cheeks, numbly. I am crying.

_You are pathetic._

My hand curls into a fist as a hard sob rises up in me, choking me with a hard grasp on my heart. _Thwap. _I slam my fist into the wall and pain shoots through until it reaches my arm, like a zap of electricity running through muscle, bone and veins.

_You are pathetic._

I stand in the shower for what seems like hours, until I felt the water chill me down to my bones. Normally in the Capitol showers have built-in water heaters so showers never ran cold but somehow I figured I had reached my limitations, whether it be Capitol or District-ruled it was time for me to get on with my life. I needed to regain focus. Honestly, what would Pompeia think of her big sister now?

Pompeia. The thought of her was like a slap in the face because all this time I had been in this delusional little world where my mind and emotions got caught and tied up in my attraction to Peeta. In the lies that he had fed to me, as if I was some stupid, ignorant dizzy girl that wore her heart on her sleeve. I had failed to think of the one thing that mattered, the reason I was here and needed to survive. A fact that I was both ashamed and angry at myself for. When even was the last time I had heard of her well-being, when had I last been told she was alright and being well taken care of?

I stumble into the bedroom and dress quietly, going through the motions while my mind reeled. Then, suddenly, I hear a scuffling sound near the door followed by light footsteps whispering down the hall. I turn and find a folded piece of paper at the foot of the doorway, feeling my face crease in confusion. Walking over to the door I pick it up hesitantly, holding it out in front of me like it is a ticking-time-bomb for a moment before carefully opening it.

_We need to talk about what happened. Meet me on the balcony at 1AM._

_p.s. Try to be conceal yourself, and do not turn on any lights._

"How about not," I grumble, crumpling up the message from Peeta in my hand. Honestly, who does he think he is? Does he think I am that stupid that I will just open up my heart to him again after the way he treated me. No, not happening. Just to prove my point, I walk over to the balcony doors and wedge a chair under the door handles so it keeps him from coming in while I am sleeping.

I shove the covers back from the bed and slip between the sheets, anger flowing through my veins like a spreading fire. No, I will not be made a fool of again.

_Pathetic._

I grit my teeth, squeeze my eyes shut, and eventually fall into a deep sleep.

**Hours later... Time: 1:18AM (Athena's POV)**

I am shaken awake. Roughly, I might add. And I blink in a daze, trying to rub sleep from my vision, as a figure hovers over me in the darkness. Clearly, this was a dream or more like a nightmare so I squeeze my eyes shut again trying to drown out what was happening.

The bed shakes again, and I open my eyes in alarm to stare at the figure as it kicks the bed again.

"What?" I whisper in annoyance.

"Shh," the voice hisses. Then the person walks over to the balcony doors, which as slightly ajar and the chair is no where in sight. Angrily, I roll over onto my side and close my eyes. I will not follow Peeta out onto the balcony. I will not.

Then my blanket is gone and the bed is shaking again, Peeta is back and kicking the bed impatiently.

"Alright, alright already. Fine," I growl. I walk over to the doors, practically stomping, and into the burst of air on the balcony. My hands curl into fists, my back turned away from Peeta. "Look, Peeta, I really do not want to hear you-"

"What part of conceal yourself do you not understand, Snow?" The voice whispers in a mix of anger and annoyance. A voice that is recognizably feminine, and...not Peeta.

As if on cue the moon slips from beneath the clouds and I see the dark figure, I blink in surprise. Katniss.

"What-why? Did you send me that note? But I thought it was..." I trail off and my stomach sinks in slight disappointment because this means Peeta really does not care. At all. He did not send the message in order to apologize. Katniss did...for whatever reason.

"Peeta?" She whispers, partially amused. "No. What you did today was-"

"Stupid. Thoughtless. Ridiculous," I finish.

"Incredible." I stare at her in shock, frown because she is definitely messing with me. As if sensing my disbelief she continues, in that impatient tone of hers. "Well, that is true that what you did was stupid. And pretty thoughtless, not to mention ridiculous-"

"But?" I interrupt her. Still looking at her like she is a crazy person.

"But Peeta was acting slightly out of line, and that angered you." Katniss looked at the sky, and smiled slightly. "Besides, it is something I would have done. And-for some weird reason-I respect that."

"Great," I say sarcastically.

"But _that _is not why I came here, well, not entirely. I came here because there was an announcement at the end of the scoring, which you of course missed."

"And what would that be?" Honestly, I was trying to be polite but everything I say seems to come out hostile and impatient. Maybe it is to match her own tone. I do not know. "Why would _you _want to help _me_? With anything."

Katniss stares at me for a long, chilling moment as the night frames her features in hard cuts and I am reminded of just how dangerous this woman is. The mockingjay. The rebel leader. "Careful Snow," she warns, her grey eyes analyze me coldly.

"Well, what do you expect? You have given me every reason to believing you hate me, you want me dead. How am I suppose to believe you want to help me for _any _reason?" I ask her in quiet desperation.

"Your sister-" Katniss begins then pauses, peering at the night sky again.

"What about my sister? I am grateful that you have chosen to protect her from my father but-"

"But? But what? I have no quarrel against your sister, you were right when you said she was just an innocent child." Katniss looks at me again, and something softens in those cold grey eyes. "And she is safe...just so you know."

"Thank you," I whisper softly. And I am. "But that is not why you are here, is it?"

A moment of awkward silence falls over us before Katniss replies, while gripping the side of the balcony.

"You will be going into the arena very, very soon," she says quietly. But I feel an implication in her words, and know there is more meaning to her words.

"How soon?" I ask, looking at her patiently.

"Soon."

I sigh at her lack of explanation and shoot her a look to say what I cannot, that she needs to tell me directly. That she should not dance around the subject. "When?" I ask, and I expect another round-about answer in reply.

"Tomorrow."

My stomach sinks and I clasp my hands together to keep them from trembling. Tomorrow. I could die tomorrow, I could be killing someone tomorrow. Because that is the only two choices I realize-to kill or be killed.

"Alright," I murmur, quietly controlling my voice to keep it from quivering. "Tomorrow."

**Sooo reviews? Suggestions? Ideas? PLEASE! Thank you =]**


	23. Chapter 23 Love and Vengeance

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**A special thank you to MarcusandHermione, LookUpAboveTonight, and Aynomous'!**

**Athena's POV:**

The second my head hits the pillow it feels like I am woken up only moments-minutes or an hour, tops-later. I blink, sleepily at the three creatures buzzing around in front of me with quick hands and calculating eyes. Stylists. I sigh as the events from last night-or more like this morning-come rushing back to me, Today is the day.

"Rise and shine, deary!" Someone rips back the curtains and my eyes wince in pain at the blinding light, I throw an arm over my face to recoil from the brightness.

"Up and at 'em," says the cheery-familiar-voice, and pulls back the covers that I had cocoon around my body. Groaning, I turn my body and curl into a ball while squeezing my eyes shut, as if blocking out the sight of what was happening would make it all go away.

"Playing dead again I see," another familiar voice mumbled. "I have to admit, you are getting good at it. You look particularly dreadful on this day and hour."

"No," I moaned, squeezing my eyes shut tighter. This was _not_ happening. Could I not just walk down the hall with the guards like I usually do, then be shipped off into the arena and get this whole thing over with. Why did I have to go through the stylists preparation of making me appear interesting, or "pretty"?

"Well, do not fret. We will have you looking freshened up and lovely for your big debut," the first familiar voice quipped. "Now. Up, up. We must not be late." Someone tugged on my leg and pulled me off the bed with a shocking amount of force, for people so small they were shockingly strong. Or maybe it was just determination that drove them towards the task at hand. Either way, I tumbled onto the floor in a mess of dark curls on my head and a rumpled nightdress.

"_Ow_," I proclaimed in delayed reaction, slightly dazed by the sudden turn of events.

Close by, I hear the sound of the door unlock and creak open but I still remain planted on the floor, staring at the carpeted rug beneath me and not bothering to look at who was joining the bizarre gathering.

"Oh, good. Marvelous. You are up and out of bed." I shoot a sarcrastic look at the person in reply, then feel my expression transform into one of understanding and slight surprise when I realize why everyone sounded so familiar. Octavia, Venia, and Flavius.

"We were ordered to give you these," Venia said to the material in her hands, like she was remarking on something horribly tragic. Her companions exchanged a knowing glance, creativity at its limits is like death to them I suppose. Stylist...

"But have no fear," Octavia declared with a wide smile. "We will get you looking just beautiful in no time. The audience will not even take into consideration the 'rags' they call clothing they presented us with, no all eyes will be on your beautiful self. Shining like a star, or should I say 'glittering like snow'." Octavia winked for a mysterious effect and kept chattering on with Venia and Flavis, however, I barely registered a word they were saying after Octavia's comment.

_Glittering like snow._ What did that mean exactly? Were they going to duck me in that glittery substance they spread on my cheekbones and around my eyes during the dinner ceremony. Goodness I hope not.

Suddenly, I am pulled out of my trance-like state by the sound of the lock clicking open swiftly and the sound of the door creaking almost hesitantly. My eyes dart to the doorway, part of me filling up with senseless hope, only to be met with another stab or both disappointment and surprise.

Katniss.

In the shadows of the night, or should I say morning, Katniss had her usual mysterious and dangerous persona but now...she almost seemed uncertain with what to do with herself. Swaying her weight from foot to foot, Katniss curled her hands behind her back not as a way of looking superior-I suspected-but more it seemed like she needed something to do with her hands.

"Katniss!" Octavia cheers, while Venia and Flavius look to her with wide grins. And like frantic, cheerful birds they all start clucking with conversation to Katniss, who replies in return to them with surprising ease. It seems like hours, but perhaps it was only minutes that it took them to finish their work with me.

Then, Venia reaches to untie my nightdress and I slap her hand away as my whole body stiffens. "I can dress myself," I mumble, closing my hand over the ties to my nightdress almost protectively.

The stylists glance at each other nervously, then Flavius finially speaks up. "Actually. You cannot. The structured process of suiting up this kind of material requires assistance."

My stomach sinks, but I refuse to let them see my scars and the determination must have shown on my face because Katniss narrows her eyes in curiosity at me.

"I can do it, " I say stubbornly.

"But miss, you cannot it-"

"It's alright. I can help her get ready," Katniss says suddenly. And for a moment the room fills with silence, a quiet that weighs the room down by tons until Flavius clears his throat.

"Very well," he says uneasily. "If you are certain, Katniss?"

"Of course," she replies, like it is so easy of a thing to suggest-like breathing. The stylist file out of the room with one more glance in my direction-and a small smile from both Octavia and Venia-before closing the door.

Another heavy silence filled the room as the sound of the stylists footsteps faded down the hall. My heart pounded in my chest and my back and chest felt like it was bound in think chains, the scars burning cold and hot secretly under my nightdress.

"I can dress myself," I whispered firmly. I curled my fists under me to keep them from trembling.

"I am sure you can but at the moment, whether you like it or not, you require help." Her voice was soft but laced with slight bitterness. "Athena." She looked at me pointingly.

I stared at her in surprise, my eyes widening and mouth slightly agape. "You-I. What did you just call me?"

Katniss stared at me with an expressionless look. "What? That is your name is it not?"

"Yeah, but-um-nevermind." I just stared at her.

"Oh, for godsakes. What?" She narrowed her grey eyes at me, a flash of annoyance coursing through the storm cloud that is her eyes. "Will you just tell me already so you can stop looking at me like I have grown an extra head?"

"Well," I hesitate and chew on my lip slightly. "You hate me. All you have ever called me is Snow, or not acknowledged me at all."

Katniss' eyes widen and her mouth slants into a firm, hard line. "So?"

"You called me Athena," I continued cautiously, feeling like I was walking on egg shells that any moment would crack and crumble under my weight. "It is not a bad thing, of course. Just...surprising."

Katniss' eyes lock onto me for a long, heavy moment and I feel myself wishing I had just kept my mouth snapped shut. Instead of breaking the fierce gaze, I stared back at her with just as much determination.

"I must warn you not to test my patience, Miss Snow. Whatever motives I have to assist you should be viewed with a bit of gratitude and not questioned for I will most likely not give you the answer you want." Her mouth turned down slightly in a frown. "Now then, turn around Athena-and-" She paused an looked almost embarrassed. "And please. Tell me you have something underneath the night clothing. You are not like-um-naked or anything. Right?"

"What?" I asked, blinking slowly. I was unsure if I heard her right. In reply, Katniss narrowed her eyes into grey slits but her cheeks flooded with warmth and a twing of pink.

I clear my throat. "Um, no, I am not...unclothed. I have a br-uh-there is stuff underneath my dress," I finish awkwardly, gesturing up and down my body.

Katniss nods, not meeting my eyes as she looks around the room with a firm look on her face. "Right. Good. Well, lets get you dressed and ready to go."

"Uh...no." Katniss' eyes dart to mine, and her face hardens.

"Excuse me?"

"No," I say firmly. I will not let her-of all people-see my scars. "I appreciate the offer. Honestly, I do, but no. I can get dressed myself."

"Whether you think so or not, you need my help. Now do not make this awkward, Snow. Undress." She looks away again.

"No," I keep my voice firm and leveled. And I practically hear her head snap back up to stare at me, or maybe I should say glare because from the weight of her gaze on me-I feel like a hole might burn through if she were to concentrate hard enough.

"Snow," she says warningly. "Do not make this difficult."

"I said no."

Katniss sighs, a low and frustrated sound that seeps into my senses and I get a weird sensation in my stomach telling me that she is not finished. "Fine."

"Fine," I say suspiciously, the statement coming out more like a question.

"Fine."

The mistake I make is that I gave in to easily to her words, which were laced with carelessness and coldness. Thinking she would be leaving after she had accepted my resistance, I turned my back on her and walked over to the material that I would be wearing into the arena. Sitting on the bed, the white contrast of the blue comforter made it appear even more sterile and prison-bound looking. My mind was so filled with thoughts of the arena that I did not hear Katniss leave the room or the door click shut at all. But surely she must have by now. Right?

Then, suddenly, I am pounced on and overwhelmed by surprise I drop to one knee as Katniss keeps a firm hold on me. I gasp as she locks an arm around my throat, cutting of my air supply.

"Now. I did not want to do this but you are just so damn stubborn, that I really had no other choice. Are you going to let me help you?" Her breathe is slightly hitched as I thrash around in her hold.

"Are you?" She repeated.

My vision was becoming hazy and I knew if I held out any longer I would become unconscious, but I was torn between pride and necessity. Finally, I broke down. Caved.

I nodded, slowly. Painfully.

Katniss let go and I fell down on my hands and knees, heaving for air. "Fine," I wheeze out. "You win." My arms tremble as I cough, again and again.

"Snow," Katniss says to me. But I just keep breathing in and out in through my nose out through my mouth in slow, controlled breathes.

"Snow," she repeats her voice less agitated and firm.

By this time I had caught my breathe, but anger at being trapped into her bidding course through my veins like electricity.

"Athena." She says my name so softly that I almost did not hear her say it. "Please. I do not know what you are afraid of but-"

"I am not afraid." My tone is hard and cold. My eyes dart to her and my mouth tightens and my stomach churns as I worry I overstepped a line. Katniss just stares at me with an strange expression on her face.

I stand from my position on the floor with shaky knees, like I am a fawn on newborn legs. But I make it to my feet, untie my nightdress cords, and shoulder the silky sleeves down until it becomes a puddle of fabric at my feet. I look at the floor determined to keep some semblance of pride.

"Happy," I say attempting to keep my tone bitter and detached but it comes out weak and a soft whisper.

"No," Katniss whispers and I look up to see the strange look on her face increased by tons, in fact, it looked like she was almost genuinely sympathetic. And surprised.

My eyes flick over her face in search of something understandable, meanwhile, I fight back the shame of standing partially naked in front of her. With all my scars both suggested and/or obvious to her in clear view.

"How?" Katniss breathed as her grey eyes widened a fraction and her mouth hung open for a second before narrowing and snapping closed. Her right hand twitched slightly, like a timid stutter-step towards my body but then she jerked it back so suddenly I jumped in slight alarm.

"Fell into some chickens," I said weakly. I figured I would stick with the same story I told Peeta. Peeta. My stomach sunk at the thought of him, even his name.

"Chickens?" Katniss looked at me like I was crazy. "You are trying to tell me that _chickens_ did _this_?" She gestured up and down my body impatiently, a look of slight of annoyance pulling at her features.

"When I was young. They were mutations, mutated chickens. Vicious little things," I muttered, scowling at the ground while the lie burned in my throat.

"You are a _horrible_ liar," she said shaking her head. "But lets just pretend for a minute that I believe you, which I do not, but this particular scar _here_-" She waved a hand at the jagged scar on my belly that loops upward, curving towards the fabric covering my right breast. "That is not a claw mark. I have seen my share of whippings and endured their mending procedures so spare me the crap story about altered pigeons-"

"Chickens," I say stubbornly but my stomach clenches at her words.

"Whatever," Katniss says and actually gives me an amused smirk, then folds her arms across her chest. "It is a bird. And a lie so either way, it is a load of bull."

"But I-" I start off desperately.

Katniss gives me a pointed look and holds up her hand as if to stop me. "Save it, Athena."

"But-" I try again but the look on Katniss' face makes my words slice off into silence. And my shoulders sag down in defeat. "Fine."

"Excuse me?"

"I said fine," I say softly.

"Fine?" Her voice is suspicious, yet, laced with eagerness.

I open my mouth to repeat myself but then purse my lips and close my eyes to conjure up what I want to say. "They are not from pigeons," I say hesitantly and open one eye in a near grimace to see what Katniss' reaction is.

"You mean chickens?" Katniss cracks a sarcastic smile and I cannot help but crack one of my own back at her.

"Ya, ya. Chickens," I say with a smirk and fold my arms across my chest. "But-" I bite my lip thinking of the proper way to start.

"But?" she presses.

"They are from-the scars I mean-um...they are from-" I take a deep breathe and straighten my posture. "They are from my father." I look at Katniss and the corners of her mouth are turned downward. I knew that look, something full of suspicion and slight disbelief.

"Look," I say calmly. "I do not care if you believe me or not just...do not punish my sister for your lack of confidence in me. I told you the truth, something I have not really told anyone actually, which is kind of ridiculous if you think about it because you despise me. As you have every right to, with your people and your siste-" I break off and clench my teeth but the damage was already done. I press my lips together to keep from babbling further.

Quietly, Katniss helped me dress in the complicated white jumper-suit before she escorted me down the hall and into a room that she had to unlock by using a keypad.

Then, the loud speaker crackles on and I tense up as Coin's voice scraps its way across my brain.

"Like our past ancestors and people of the District's, it is time for every one of you to experience the pain and suffering we have lived with due to your families-along with the people of the Capitol as a whole-carelessness and brutality. Today, many of you will die slow, painful deaths. Few of you will make it and survive, and those few will be the strongest and the most broken in the end."

I want to scream to slam my fists into some wall at her words that never seem to stop, for she is like a constant, horrid ringing in my ears.

"You people always claimed 'may the odds be ever in your favor. Well, we have a motto-if you will-of our own. For all the cruelty and injustice done onto us we shall take back with a vengeance that is rightfully ours for the taking. 'An eye for an eye', I say. But in truth it is not all about me, now is it? No, for you people are the one who will be punished for these such injustifiable crimes. And we will take what is ours. In vengeance."

Her voice crackles off with a snap and from the corner of my eye I see Katniss shaking her head slightly, frowning. Then I peer around the room for the first time and see the top of a spiral staircase leading far down into a dimmed-lit area that was practically darkness.

"Shall we?" Katniss says stiffly, then starts walking down the staircase without a backward glance. Nodding, I cautiously follow her down with careful steps on the stone stairs. The darkness increases as we walk further down and my eyes slowly adjust to the sudden lack of light, while I try not to trip and painfully take a drive down the steps.

After minutes more-as it grows colder and colder-the enveloped darkness we are in sparks with light and a door shifts into my vision. Katniss approaches it, types in the password on the keypad, and it clicks open with a startling 'clang'.

The room we walk into is bright, in comparison to the veil of darkness we were just in it is a blazing beam on my retina. And then I see the transfer pod. We are in the transferring room where I will be sent into the arena in a matter of minutes, i suspect.

"Well, I suppose this is it." My voice is slightly shaky to my ears and I take a step towards the transfer pod in attempt of feigned confidence.

"Athena. Wait," Katniss says in a strange tone that I look back at her. "I-uh-I am having something brought in before you leave." I raise an eyebrow at her in question, then a soft knock sounds on a door behind the transfer pod. Katniss immediately walks over and for a moment my heart jumps at the thought that Peeta will be waiting behind it.

"What took you so long? I thought something might have happened," she whispered into the cloak of darkness in the other room. A hushed voice answered but I could not make out the words they said.

A big man that I remember as the drunk Haymitch filed into the room but it was the familiar figure behind him that caused my heart to jump. The door swung open the rest of the way and my heart melted into a pool of shame, guilt and shock. "I never thought I would see you again," I whispered faintly as my eyes threatened to spill over with tears.

"Pompeia." I picked her up and held her close as the guilt of hoping for Peeta painfully twisted my heart like a wet rag that needed ringed out. I smoothed my hand over her silky blonde hair that flowed to her shoulders in a tangled mess. Tears streaked her face and her whole body shook as cried while I held her tightly in my arms.

Moments pass that feel like seconds but the clock on the wall chimes and Katniss and Haymitch exchange a pained look. Without them saying a word I know that it is time for me to go.

"I love you, Pompe." I bend down on my knees, hold her face between my hands, and look into her sad blue eyes. "I have to go but I want you to remember that-" I bite my lip as the tears in my eyes threaten to fall. I grab her tiny hand and press the back of it to my cheek, "I love you." Then I kiss the inside of her wrist before rising to my feet, slowly.

I look at Katniss to the clock and back to Katniss again before nodding. Hesitantly, I walk over to Katniss while my sister still clings to mewith her arms coiled around my hips and her face buried in the bottom of my shirt. Katniss' body stiffens but her grey eyes hold mine with a look of understanding.

I extend my hand out to her and after a moment Katniss places hers cautiously in my own, it is soft yet callused-a mixture that I thought was not possible.

"Thank you," I whisper to her, then give her hand a squeeze which she returns hesitantly before I let mine drop and smooth over Pompe's hair once more.

"Sweetie," I say quietly to her and place my hands on her shoulders, peering down at her carefully. "Pompeia, honey, I have to go now."

At my words Pompeia's grip on me tightens and the sobs become more violent, a sound that nearly breaks my heart and causes it to stop beating. But then I place a hand over my aching heart and continue to look down at my sister until she breaks away and looks at me. Meanwhile, I feel the slow beating of my heart.

Pompe's eyes are rimmed with red, a startling contrast to her bright blue eyes that are now blood-shot, and her cheeks are puffy and stained with tear lines. I drop my hand and stroke the side of her face tenderly.

"I have to go now, Pompe. Everything will be oka-"

"No," Pompeia interrupts with a look of anguish. "No it won't Athena, and you know it. But please just tell me you will try to come back home, come back to me. Please Athena. I don't want to lose you too."

"I will try," I say firmly and then I hug her to me fiercely. "I promise I will try, Pompe."

Suddenly, the transfer pod buzzes and begins to flash in warning and I barely have enough time to kiss the top of Pompeia's head before I run to the glass doors decending on the pod. There is no escape now.

_Five_. A mechanical voice counts down. I look through the glass at everyone-Katniss, Haymitch, Pompeia...

_Four._ I look at Katniss and we lock eyes for a moment, then I whisper a thank you to her and pray that she keep my sister safe. She returns my look with a nod, an expression of deep understanding dawning on her face. I look at Haymitch and find myself equally thankful. He gives me a small, sad smile and a parting wave.

_Three_. I look at Pompeia and she is crying again but her expression lightens a bit once I meet her eyes. She is trying to hold back her tears for me, then she holds her hand up to her heart with a small, watery smile. It is the last thing I see before I am raised up to the arena grounds.

_Two. _I see all the Capitol tributes distributed around me in their team colors, Brutus far off to my left wearing a wide smirk and gestures to me suggestively.

_One._ I barely have enough time to look around at my surroundings before the bell sounds and all hell breaks loose.

And then I begin to run as fast and as hard as my legs can take me. Only distantly do I remember that Peeta never came. That he really must not have cared at all about me, that it was all some sick game to him.

**Review please, tell me what you think? =]**


	24. Chapter 24 Pain

**I do not own **_**Hypocrite!**_

**Thank you to all that have reviewed, followed, and liked my story so far! Also, I must apologize for this big delay of an update. I have been very busy and I am very, very sorry! **

**Athena's POV:**

Except that I was not able to continue after a couple steps—running that is— and my feet struggled to come to a frenzied halt. Meanwhile my body felt that it should continue to be in motion and I barely had time to sway myself backwards before I pitched myself into danger head-first.

Because that is what I found myself staring at so blurry-eyed and confused, until I looked at the extent of platform beneath my feet and scattered in sections in front of me like some type of maze from hell. Yes, beneath my feet was unbalanced, floating concrete that spread around and in front of me in a broken-up—very patchy—path while the rest of what was around me was water. And if the tingle in my noise serves me correct, I would say it was salt water and I was floating on the ocean surface. Quite ungracefully too, I might add.

"Shit," a voice mutters quietly—until with a sinking stomach I realize that it was my own. The silence for the soothing stir of water is broken by a shrill scream, which causes me to involuntarily wince.

It is Cecilia, crumpling in front of a sign that warns _Beware_, which is coupled with a blotted, abstract figure of some creature below the words written in vivid red. A scrap of green fabric is clenched in her hand as tears stream down her thin, weathered face.

"Cecilia," I call out and jump over to her platform after a couple of twists, leaps and one particularly horrid unbalanced landing that caused me to scrap my knees and fall down before her. "Cecilia, what is it? What is wrong?"

"Gone," she whispers in a dazed voice that matches the expression on her face—the look in her cloudy eyes. Her silver-blonde hair flicks in the wind, some strands getting stuck to the moister gathered on her chapped lips. "She is gone. Vanished from thin air and nothing but a tiny splash, practically soundless. Gone."

My heart pounds and my eyes flick over to the _Beware_ sign to the ocean around us before turning my attentions back to Cecilia.

"What do you mean gone, Cecilia?" Then I remember her mention of the splash. "Did someone fall in? Drown?"

Cecilia's eyes widen suddenly and stare at me blindly, no really focusing on anything. I am not even sure if she really sees me, I recognized a crazed high in her eyes that only appears when someone is going through withdrawal.

"No, no. No sinking and no struggled breath. She was beside me we were going to be partners, allies like in the Games but then something—some forcible hand—snatched her out of the air." She gestured wildly with her hands, acting like crane-machine claws closing in on the air before her. "And then she was gone. _Poof_. No scream. No cry of any sort. Just one tiny splash and _poof._ Gone."

She rose from her curled in position on the ground and with shaky feet moved forward, alarmingly close to the edge of the platform. I reached out and grabbed her arm as her foot hovered in the air, above the ocean surface that splashed her shoe. Hooded eyes stare at me, focusing suddenly on my eyes, and I feel the pierce of her injured soul through her violet eyes.

"Snowflake," she whispers, smiling slightly. "You do not understand."

Frowning, I yank her back a couple steps from the edge because honestly I am questioning sanity. That much I do understand. "There is nothing to understand except that you are obviously a bit under the weather and not thinking clearly. What about your family?" My mind jumps to the memory of her little sister and mine having play-dates, while the two of us engaged in awkward, forced (for me) and slightly crazy (her) conversation.

"Always the self-less one," Cecilia proclaims as her eyes glass over again and a ghostly smile spreads across her mouth. "Little snowflake, I will love no other like what I have lost." Cecilia gazes down at the choppy sea below us and as I try to depict the meaning in her words I barely notice her arm sliding from my grasp until she calls out to me again, a few feet away on another nearby platform.

"Little snowflake, do not fear. For all of us have seen this all played out before, right under our very nose and stabbed into our eyes with the images of entertainment. Like the ticking of a clock, like forest set on fire, like a paradise laid out before us."

"Cecilia," I call slightly alarmed by her words and implied meanings. "Come back, we can work this out together. Protect on another. I know we have never been very close but—"

"Little snowflake," she cuts off in her dreamy voice. "I am much too tired. Now, I must say goodnight." And then, I understood what she really intended to do and ran, jumped and tumbled onto her platform. But it was too late, and my hand caught air instead of Cecilia's thin, blue-clad frame that laughed out at me from mere inches away from my grasp. Before I knew it her smiling face sunk down below the oceans dark surface.

"Cecilia!" It was no use, I was yelling at nothing and the wind carried my cry away like a distant echo. "Cecilia," I whispered, softly. Yet, my heart did not break into pieces at the shocking loss. It was more that. Shocking.

A crackling sound rumbled from overhead and I was suddenly slapped awake, the broodingly dark sky above placed me at the feet of realization. I was in the Games, I needed to find shelter—safety—fast. I looked around me and noticed others, like myself, looking around in a daze. I think we were all unsure what to make of this whole situation.

Then, like the District was conducting the thoughts for us—and in a way they were—the sky suddenly lite up with hundreds of red circles that were held together with string. Parachutes. And not just any parachutes, I realized as one dropped in front of me with a tiny basket full of point-sharp knives tucked into it. Grabbing them up I peered around at everyone else realizing this and made a brake for it, after grabbing up a nearby backpack that had fluttered down on a brown parachute.

I leapt and bounded, running as I realized all that constant training had been useful after all. An arrow whizzed past my head, nearly taking off my ear and I rolled onto a platform shielding my face with the bag as something flew at me from my peripheral vision. A thump in the bag sounded and I continued to roll until I halted at the breaking edge that was between me and the crashing waves threating me with a burst of cold, salty mist that flew up in my face and drenched my hair. Jerking the bag away from my face, I find an arrow struck in the bag at an angle that—if had been straight on—would have been the death of me.

Then, with a glance at the bow-and-arrow-clad figure—someone from the blue team— in the distance I begin running again. My eyes water at the constant bursts of salty air but I do not dare slow my pace by even one second.

And, suddenly, I am force to stop. Not because something has presented another danger that calls for immediate protection, no, I can only wish that were the case because what I discover is so, so much worse.

The platform has ended. I can see land in a considerable distance but the choppy sea is before me as deep, dark, and as threating as ever. _Beware_ signs call out all around me but I know that it is do or die for the way I came is not an option for me to even consider taking. And as another arrow imbeds itself in a nearby sign, which happened to be very close to my arm, it only further proves the fact of what danger awaits me in either path I take.

With that in mind, I arch myself and dive into the frigid waters daunting surface and pray that I am not plunging into my doom.

The first thing I realize is that the water is cold, numbingly so cold that it takes my breath away so that I must force it out in frantic pants while my body practically convulses in temperature-shock. However, it seems the outfit that I was given to wear began to have an effect because at the waters coldness I begin to feel the temperature within the seams of my get-up begin to tingle…and warm.

With a silent thank you to whomever it is out there that has put me in their favor I push through the pins and needles feeling that has overtaken my hands, chest, and neck and head because those are the places that were not offered protection by the suit.

Pushing on and kicking with all the energy I have I begin to see land becoming nearer and nearer, until I it seems so close that I can taste what its thick forest and grainy sand beaches has to offer.

It is at that moment that I feel something slide past my leg, the feel of it causes a shiver down my spine that zips up to my heart and sticks into it like a knife—that keeps twisting and turning. I hear splashing and twist around to see another person, the man from the red team seemed to have taken up the same idea that I did because his steady paddling did not waver on bit as he passed me.

But then he did, stop I mean. And, oh, did he stop swimming because he began thrashing around in frenzy and murmuring obscenities. And that is when I saw it or them rather. Fins. Turning I realized they were all around us, circling like predators around the man from the red team and I. And then the screaming started.

A pool of red that matched the color of the man's suit surrounded us and he screamed bloody-murder (no pun intended).

Panicked, I looked around me to see if I needed to fight off any of these sea monsters of my own but even when I did discover a few swimming by I realized they were not attacking. Yet. Or maybe it was just because I was not flailing around like a scared walrus, and that is when an understanding sparked into my mind.

"Hey," I called in what I could only hope was to be a calm voice, though I sensed some unease peppered within its tone. The man continued to thrash around and the creatures continued to swarm, more blood spread around us like a thick sheet of red. "Hey!" I yelled firmly, and for a moment the man stared at me through painful eyes.

"Yo—you—you must hell—p me…please. God, _please_. Help me, I can—cannot feel my leg. I fear—"the man stuttered out and then began to wail and break down in tears. Meanwhile, the monsters continued to circle.

"Alright," I began, trying to sound very calm. "I am going to try to help you but you need to listen to me. Alright? You need to remain calm; the things in here—whatever they are—are feeding on your fear. See how they are not attacking me? You need to follow my example until I can make my way over to you, but slowly and _calmly_. Okay?"

The man began to whimper but seemed to agree, and discontinued thrashing around like a fish-out-of-water. Slowly, I began to drag him with me but the creatures continued to try to pursue us until one got so gutsy enough that it sprang its head up from the surface, a mouth full of big hungry jaws in my clear view.

At that moment I punched it, slamming my closed fist into the area above those fierce jaws as hard as I could while gripping the man from the red team—Hector, I came to know—and kicking away in effort to keep us afloat. I was exhausted from hauling this two-hundred-something-pound man with me above these deep, below freezing waters. And exhaustion has always made me a little…testy. And a bit irrational apparently seeing as I just popped an alarmingly threatening sea creature in the face, where the nose should be, and waited for the result of the action afterwards.

However, while I anticipated the thing to charge at me, rip my head off, and drag the both of us under I was faced with a big surprise. Because it did not and actually…it kind of swam away. The two slits above those sharp, open teeth began to stream two lines of liquid and then it swam away with just a flash of its tail splashing water in my face. Then, it was gone.

Hector stared open-mouthed at me as I continued to kick our way through the choppy waves, dead weight anchoring onto my side from his lack of movement.

"You know," I huffed out, "you could at least try and put forth some effort."

"Yo—you…"

"Me?" I asked, slightly irate because of the cold and exhaustion riding over my body from hauling this brute—who could very well kill me very soon—through mutated, shark infested waters. "What about me?"

"Oh, God, my leg but you…you—"

"Hector." I cut a glare at him because he is still not helping any of these matters.

"You _punched_ that thing. You punched a _shark_." He stares at me with an incredulous look, then cringes suddenly. "God, my leg, I cannot feel my leg."

Hector squirmed around, practically dragging me under, and let out a whimper. And, with some difficulty, I bent downward to gently check his leg for injuries and nearly cried out in alarm.

"What?" Hector questioned quite painfully. "What is it?"

"Hector," I began quietly. I forced my voice to be as calm as I could, but not so calm as to distress him. "Hector. We have to keep moving

"Girl," his painful voice announced, firmly. "Tell me how bad it is."

"It is not so bad. We just have to keep moving," I tell him—keeping my gaze on the land that is nearing closer and closer at each stroke we take. Or maybe I should say each stroke I take because this guy clearly is in a lot of pain, and with good reason.

"You are a horrible liar." His ice blue eyes cut through me, serious with the underlay of pain and fear. He pants for a few moments, then kicks but thankfully the sky is growing dark because the blood around us is sure to be very thick and spread out.

Soon we are so close to the sandy shore but I feel him growing faint, distant, and his weight is to the point of unbearable. Then, we reach shallow waters and my feet smack into the soft, gushy sensation of the ocean floor even though we are still up to our necks in salty water.

Yet, as I am shoving Hector onto the sandy shore, I know we are far from safety and are in for a long night because he can now see his leg—or the absence of it. Even in the veil of darkness, the light of the moon reveals the ragged flesh that bleeds freely and stains the sand black beneath Hector. That is when he begins screaming.

"Shh," I urge him, while I dig into my backpack and find a heavy cloth and apply pressure to Hector's stump of flesh because all that is left of his right leg is from the thigh up. The rest is gone, completely torn off and left wherever in the deep sea. "Hector, I know it probably hurts but it is really important we do not bring any attention to ourselves. Even if it is dark and hard to see, remember we are not in a safe place."

His gaze suddenly goes glassy and in the moonlight his pale blue eyes shine bright silver, but he stops screaming and reduces his voice to small whimpers of pain.

"Athena," he pants out suddenly. His eyes focus on my face, which is surely full of surprise from his use of my name. "Why are you here, girl? You should be running and hiding like the rest of them. Not trying to rescue some man who has no chance in hell to making it back to the Capitol."

I stare at him, speechless. A cold hand closes over my heart and for some reason this statement makes me feel like crying because he is right. Why should I be trying to help this man who is sure to be dead by morning? We had never spoken to each other throughout the years; I had only seen mere glances of him at dinner parties and events.

"I—"I stutter and his mouth pulls into a grave smile.

"I thank you for not letting me become shark bait, or god knows what else is in there, but you need to go. If anyone should have a chance in this—who is not just a selfish bastard who is doing this for themselves—it is you. Clearly, because you could have ditched me at any of those times. But, no, you are not a Snow. Are you?"

I just stare at him but apparently that served as an answer.

"No, I did not think so." Hector ran a hand over his face and through his fiery-red head of curly hair.

In the distance we see, through the cover of dark trees, we both see a beam of light flashing through the darkness. And whoops of triumph and crashing feet echo into the night like a battle cry. Searching. It seems a hunting party has already become assembled.

"Run, girl." Hector keeps his eyes on the beam of light, which is nearing ever so closer by the second. Then he turns his silvery eyes on me, fixing me with a pointed glare. "Now."

"But—"I begin, feeling that I cannot just simply leave him here to fend off the hunting party alone because he had no chance against them. But again, what purpose does this man serve to me aside from being helpless.

"Go," he presses. "Or so help me; I will throw myself back into that ocean even if I have to crawl to get away from you. You need to run, find shelter and fast."

After I make no movement of doing so he pushes me with all his might away from him so that I fall into the sand several feet away. Then, with one last glance at Hector, I begin a mad dash into the forest just as the light of the search party breaks out onto the beach.

"Oh, look what we have here!" The voice nearly has me stop in my tracks as my feet just make it into the cover provided by forest trees. "I thought I heard the sigh of a helpless maiden here on these sandy shores, did I not boys?"

Brutus.

His white suit gleams in the darkness as he points the beam of light into Hectors face. Then, he turns to glance at two men that are flanked on either side of him. One man in brown and another from blue, and both whom had the appearance of bulky-looking thugs. Lovely.

"Brutus," the man from brown begins. "I thought we were going to search for my sister? Besides it seems something has already gotten to him."

"Did I ask for a commentary, Anthony? We will find your beautiful sister soon enough, or maybe she will find us because you did not apparently see the way she was making eyes at me all throughout training."

I expected some type of challenge at this comment; instead Anthony's response was silence.

"That is what I thought Anthony, my fine fellow."

Honestly, I just wanted to run out there and stab the pompous jerk in the chest and get it over with. At that thought, I unsheathed one of the knives that had been from the parachute basket, and clenched it in my hand.

"Besides, I am imagining that Hec here did not get ashore all by himself. Is that not right, buddy?" Brutus kneels beside Hector and claps him on the shoulder, a wide grin overtaking his face.

"Go to hell Brutus," Hector pants out while clenching the rag I gave him to his injury.

"Now, is that anyway to talk to the man who wants to take a pathetic old-man under his wing? I do not think so." Brutus' teeth gleam as white as his suit in the night, a scowl leering out at Hector as Brutus twirls something flashing between his fingers—a knife.

"Now. Tell me, old man. Where is Athena Snow? I know she is the one who helped you because no one else would have pulled you ashore willingly, or anyone who would have is already dead. The latter being to my personal knowledge so tell me, Hector, where is she?"

"You want to know, Brutus?"

"Yes." His smile gleams once more in the darkness. "Yes, I do."

"Why? What personal interest is she to you?"

"No great personal interest. Just…something I will definitely _enjoy_ playing with, if you catch my meaning."

"In that case, Brutus…" Hector trails off.

"Yes?" Brutus urges, impatiently. "Out with it man."

"I hope you will never find her but if you do, or if—more likely—she finds you. I hope you scream when she sticks a knife through your heart."

I hear a struggle but I cover my eyes at what is sure to be a gruesome death from the sounds of Brutus' anger and Hector's grunts of pain.

And then I begin running through the forest, while confused tears swim into my vision and my mind echoes with Hector's screams.

**Review please!**


	25. Chapter 25 Too Little Too Late

**I do not own **_**the Hunger Games!**_

**Peeta's POV:**

I walk out of the infirmary, rubbing my neck subconsciously while cursing Coin for making this all such a big deal.

"Poor Peeta so weak he cannot handle being punched by a girl less than half his size," he mutter sourly. "Surly I have never had an injury before so a hit to the throat is _practically _lethal. Stupid, foolish woman…" He rolled his eyes at the thought of Coin even worry about him like that, no; there must have been some underlying reason. _Because even an idiot would be able to tell that woman did not have a compassionate bone in her body, let alone it be out of concern for someone like him._

Besides the nurse only proved that point because after a few days of analysis he was cleared with a bill of good, nearly perfect health.

Now he had to run and find Athena, it had driven him to the point of madness to be locked up in the infirmary when he had to speak to her so urgently. What she must think of him…he shook his head at the memory of her eyes sparking with shock and hurt, and then that anger that lashed out at him for speaking to her in that manner.

He rubbed his throat again, a slight smile turning the corners of his mouth up but not too much because the severity of Athena's pain still flashed in his mind—over and over, like a movie set on repeat. Still…it had been a good hit.

Now he had to go explain to her that he had not meant all that he had said, that it had all just been for show so Coin and the others would not suspect anything and take away his rights to being her mentor. All of this, he had been trying to figure out the proper way to tell her without revealing too much of himself to her because he did have feelings for this strange, beautiful girl. However, he did not wish to have another hit delivered to his ego and pride because he was developing feelings for Athena—strong feelings—that left him vulnerable to heartache. Again.

Though he also had to consider the fact that Athena was not Katniss, that she had her own mind and heart—both of which she began to open up to him. _Which she is probably beating herself up over doing right now, thanks to his harsh choice of words_, he thought bitterly.

In his defense, he did not think that she could be harmed so easily or that she would believe what he was saying for even a second. He thought she would have read him like a book, seen through his intentions, and merely played along only to laugh about it later. But she hadn't laughed, or understood, and instead those beautiful golden eyes filled with hurt before clouding with anger and throwing a punch at him.

And god was it a punch, a direct hit to his Adams-apple. _Baby, you take my breath away_ _took on a whole new meaning_, he thought with a smirk as he walked down to where Athena's room was located. Once there he knocked, took out the keys, and then turned the lock and stepped into the room.

A once he felt the sense that something was wrong, amiss. The room was vacant, the bed stripped for probably cleaning but that was not all…it just felt abandoned, as if its occupancy had reached its limit. Athena was not here, that much he was certain.

Worry clouded his mind suddenly, ideas of her being imprisoned for her lashing out at him but Coin had said she was not to be taken prisoner for she was already taken prisoner for the Games.

He had to go see Katniss because if anyone would know what was going on it would be her, so he stormed his way to her room with the tapping of his cane bouncing off the walls of the hallway.

He knocked on her door, waited for a few moments and then knocked again—louder and harder but still he received no answer. Strange. He placed his ear to the door and heard noting within except silence.

A rush of noise came down the hall and he watched as some of Coin's soldiers talked strangely with animated gesturing and enthusiasm.

"I am telling you the guy's leg was torn completely off! And the girl kept hauling him onto shore," the one soldier said while swinging his harms back and forth in a ridiculous  
>hauling motion.<p>

"But that guy, Hecant or something—"another soldier started.

"Hector," the first man interrupted.

"Whatever," the other said impatiently. "But what I was _trying _to say was that the man is massive, two-hundred-something pounds of pure muscle and around six-feet tall. The fact that that girl could shoulder all that by herself and in the event of a crisis like those waters, I know how cold and dangerous they are because I helped Coin and those lab-rats from the Capitol get everything ready for the Games."

"Yes but obviously the girl is a mutant anyways, I mean just look at who her father is and the way she runs—it was like watching a beam of light shoot through the air. And the way she moves, god, that body even through that white suit of hers…"The third man smirks then shakes his head, while the two others laugh but nod in understanding and playfully shoved at one another.

"You know what the Captain would say if she heard your talk, Flint?" A woman's voice interrupted the men's horseplay, cold and calculating, and a Paylor stepped out of a nearby shadow.

"Commander Paylor," Flint replies civilly. "Of course, we were just messing around a little, no need to alarm the Captain. She knows where out loyalties lay, with her and always with her."

The two men on either side of him nodded quickly as Paylor glanced over them, though she must have been taking little notice because it was not the soldiers she was looking at…it was at him.

"Evening Peeta Mellark, did you just get discharged from the infirmary?" A slight smile quirked at her mouth, she had taken to staring at him more often lately since Katniss made her choice of Gale known. He did not know what to make of the new attention just yet, Paylor was older than he but noticeably attractive thought he did not have any interest in her in that way.

The male soldiers spun around in surprise to fine him there, leaning casually against the stone wall listening to everything with a strange cold feeling welling up in his stomach. The name…Hector, jumped around in his mind but he could not figure out the importance of that name just yet.

"Poplin Paylor," he said and smiled politely. "Yes, I did just a bit ago actually though there was nothing wrong with me. A clean bill of health as the nurse said, aside from a nasty bruise that looks far worse than it actually is but nothing to worry about."

"Why that's great news," Paylor exclaimed with a somewhat timid smile. "Are you going to watch the Games now with Katniss?"

The confusion must have registered on my face because Paylor frowned slightly, and shot a look at the male soldiers in order to dismiss them, and then—once they were gone—she turned back to Peeta. "The Games Peeta, is that where you are going now? To watch them with Katniss in the mentor room?" She said the words slowly, carefully, as if not to alarm him somehow.

And then everything began to click into place: Athena's empty room, the silence in the hallways, who Hector was, and why the soldiers' mention of the girl in the white suit made a chill run through his body. However, most of all, he finally understood why Coin had pushed so hard to keep him in the infirmary after the incident with Athena and his throat.

Raking his hands over his face in frustration and slight misery, Peeta looked at Paylor and shook his head. "Where is the mentor room located, Paylor?"

"On the second floor in the third room to the left; Peeta, are you alright? You are looking a little pale maybe you should go rest, or visit the infirmary again."

Peeta just shook his head and walked passed her, mumbling a small thank you before rushing down the hall and barreling into the elevator. He tried to remain calm, told himself that Paylor and everyone had just made a mistake because they could not have started the Games just yet. He had not apologized and explained himself to Athena yet, and he needed to see her face at least one more time to tell her something that would drive her to win. To come back to him without her actually knowing how desperately he wanted to be near her.

When he finally got to the room on the second floor, Peeta swung the door open and received a slap in the face for his thoughts and harsh words as reality crashed into him instantly.

"Damn it, climb a tree already and get out of the line of fire. Get to higher ground now, girl." Katniss grumbled and slapped her hands down on the table in front of her.

Peeta walked a few steps closer to the screen as if not believing what he was seeing, then his can slipped out of his hand and a look of horror appeared on his face.

On one of the screens was Athena's pale face, smudged with blood, dirt and tears as she wandered around in the darkness in search of something.

"Peeta," Katniss breathed his name, registered the look on his face, and quickly walked him out of the room before anyone else could see his reaction.

"I don't—"He paused, blinking slowly as if this was all a bad dream. "She cannot be gone already. The Games, they have not started already? Right, Katniss?" He looked at her hopefully, but he could read the look in her eyes before she even spoke.

"Peeta…" Her voice said it all, this was really happening.

"How long?"

"How long what?" She asked in a quiet and soft voice.

"How long has it been since they when in?" His eyes slit to blue daggers, not angry at her exactly but still as fierce and intense. "How long have I been kept away?"

"Peeta. I did not know that you were being kept away; I thought that after everything that happened you just wanted me to take over. I did not know where you were. I asked Coin, asked Haymitch, damn it I asked _everyone_ but no one knew so I thought you were staying away intentionally." She looked at him sadly, frowning. "I had no idea. Peeta, please, stop looking at me like that."

"How _long_, Katniss?" He said through gritted teeth then instantly regretted his tone when her eyes widened in shock then narrowed in cold civility.

"Two day ago," she muttered silently.

"Two days," he repeated her words numbly. His back hit the stone wall hard, the cold surface providing stability for at this moment he was sure he would collapse. Not out of weakness but more because the anger trembling in his body was rising up, flaring like nothing he had ever felt before. "I have to go."

And so he went with Katniss calling out to him from a distant place, his hands clenched into fists as he realized something. He did not have his cane. So he walked, taking the staircase to punish himself, and collapsed into his room to begin smashing everything in sight.

**What will happen now? Oh dear, I am not sure. How about some insight from my lovely reviewers? Please? =] Tell me what you think and I will be much appreciative!**


	26. Chapter 26 Want

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games**_**!**

**Thank you to my reviewers, followers, and people who made my story one of their favorites!**

**Enjoy =]**

**Athena's POV:**

I wake up with a pounding head and no clue where I am, I must have passed out because that seems to be the only rationality of why I would be curled up in a bush attempting to blink away the darkness.

Mud coats my body, which I am semi thankful for because it masks the vibrant white, which would make me a moving target in both the light and darkness. I move slightly and my body practically groans in protest, but I know that it is a great risk for me to stay here.

Moving slowly and carefully I am able to make it to a tree, which in the darkness I can just barely make out the hollowed hole in the side of the stump not too far off the ground to cause me to be sick but high enough for safety. I stop and do a sound check, pausing several times in my hiding spot until I finally crawl over to the tree quickly before anyone comes.

Sure enough, right after I cover the hole with my mud-splattered brown parachute I see the hunting group marching right through the bush that I just left from. Peeking silently through the little hole I left to keep watch, I see Brutus leading the two boys accompanied by the sister from the brown team.

"Where the hell could she be?" Brutus growls and smashes his fist into a nearby tree, then slams his foot into it until it snaps with a satisfying crunch. I see his white-covered chest heave up and down in fury and frustration, and then his eyes glance around to analyze the surroundings again but come up with nothing. The urge to smirk in amusement is almost overwhelming but he is much too close to where my tree is for me to get too cocky.

"We should go," the boy from blue says quietly. "Set up camp and keep watch for the others before they catch us with our backs turned.

"I said I want to find her," Brutus snarls, sending a sharp glare to the boy in blue. "Tonight." He locks eyes with the boy from blue and when he does not choose to look away, choosing instead to stand his ground against Brutus who is at least a foot shorter than him but he must understand that he is not anywhere near strong enough to overtake Brutus.

"Do you really want to play this game of mutiny, Cravan?" Brutus asks with amusement sprinkled in his tone as he folds his hands behind his head in a casual manner and leans against a nearby tree.

"I think it would be best," he pauses and gulps loudly as Brutus moves towards him in slow, careful steps like a lion waiting for the right time to strike. "I think it would be best if we found a place to stay for tonight, cover our backs, and then we can search for Snow by the light of day tomorrow morning."

"Do you now?" Brutus circles around him a bit before stepping close to him from behind; resting his hands heavily on Cavan's shoulders—which stiffened more and more with each move Brutus takes.

"Yes," he replies to Brutus in a strained voice.

"Well, then, everyone has a right to an opinion. Right?" Brutus removes his hands from Cravan's shoulders and from the lightness in his voice anyone would think the tense moment had passed. And Cravan seemed to think so because his body began to relax, but then he turned to say something to the brother and sister from brown and Brutus decided to pounce.

The boy from blues neck snapped quick and sharp, he was dead before his body slumped to the dark forest floor. All was quiet for several moments, and then Brutus moves forward and the brother and sister jump at his suddenness.

"Shall we set up camp?" Brutus asks in his casual tone. The two nod, silently, and tail behind him as he walks into the mass of black trees outlined in the night.

In the distance I hear the sound of the cannon sounding that there is another death among us, the sound echoing off the trees in the darkness. I close my eyes until morning, awaiting my impending death by the hands of someone or something, and pray only that Brutus is not the one to take my life.

**Peeta's POV:**

After a night of thrashing anger and frustration, Peeta went to search for Katniss so he could try to find a way to get to Athena. But once he found her at her house, he took hesitant steps to approach her.

"So glad you could join us," she remarks dryly. Her eyes are glued to the monitor screen televising the Games, and then her finger taps the one monitor that shows Athena shuffling through her bag and tossing aside several small packaged items.

"What I have been trying to figure out is why your girl here is throwing away perfectly good jerky, that is protein she is going to need to survive the games. If she does not like it then why doesn't she just use it to hunt or trap an animal? Did you not teach her anything resourceful, Peeta?" Katniss looks at Peeta through wide eyes. "How are you holding up? Is there anything left of your room?"

"Of course," he replies to her and answering a few of her questions in just that short answer.

She nods, but knows better than to pry. "I sent her a parachute out for her earlier; it should be dropping in to her pretty soon." She nods towards the screen, gesturing towards Athena.

Before he could utter a reply, as if to quote Katniss, a parachute swayed down from the sky and sat beside Athena as her hand stayed frozen on the bag. With quick movements, Athena grabbed the small bag, wrenched it open, let out a small groan and shook her head, and then she threw a handful of slim packages into bushes nearby. She zipped the tiny bag up in the bag she was sorting through and then shouldered it before slinking away into the forest with quick, light steps.

Meanwhile, Katniss begins to lose her mind over what Athena just did.

"What the hell is wrong with this girl?" Katniss' hands curl into fists and her mouth slants into a furious frown. "That was premium meat imported from the Capitol supply! Do you have any idea what I had to go through to get that stuff?" She turns her cold grey eyes on me, the glare shooting through me like a knife—frigid and dangerous.

"How many times do I have to tell you that she is a vegetarian?" The small voice startles us both and we both swirl around to find Pompeia standing closely to the screen, pale and squinting at the image of her sister analyzing the forest cautiously.

"This is life or death," Katniss says through gritted teeth. "She does not have the choice to think about what she _wants_ to eat. It is all about taking what comes to you and conserving it, not throwing it away hoping for something better."

"She. Does _Not_. Eat. Meat," Pompeia says slowly and firmly. "For anyone."

"Then she will die," Katniss said the words on impulse and instantly regretted it when she saw the look on the little girl's face.

"You have to understand, Pompeia, in these Games there is not choice of likes and dislikes. You take what you get in order to survive. And if she does not grab at every opportunity than it makes survival a lot more difficult," she says softly. "I'm sorry."

"You people put her there," Pompeia's blue eyes glimmered with unshed tears until one escaped from the corner of her eye, followed by another trailing down on her other cheek. "So do not blame my sister—my sister who took my place—for what you people decided. I could have been the one in there, but now I—" Pompeia stops and turns around as her small shoulders begin to shake with silent sobs.

"Pompeia…" I begin but then mash my lips together in a line when she turns around quickly as Katniss attempts to comfort her, the look on her face instantly causes the words I was going to say to vanish from my mind.

"Now I might have to watch my sister die, and for what? For a justice that we had no part in. It is about revenge, revenge for your sister's death—like the deaths of so many others." Her chest heaves up and down, tears making a steady path down her pale cheeks.

Katniss tries to hug her but she squirms away and looks at us, a mask of defiance and a flush coloring her cheeks. "Athena is the only person I have." She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand.

A burst of rage flared up in Peeta's stomach and before he knew it the words that were playing in his mind flew off his tongue. "I want to go into the Games."

Pompeia had allowed Katniss to wrap her arms around the little girl, and at Peeta's words Katniss stopped the soothing stokes her hand had been delivering to Pompeia's hair. The two stared at Peeta with matching incredulous expressions.

"What?"

"I want to go into the Games to help Athena. I know it would be completely against all of what Coin believes that I will be claiming a rebellion against the District and Coin will likely give the order for me to be killed." Katniss stares at me openmouthed for a few moments before responding.

"And I will not be able to talk you out of it, will I?"

"No," Peeta says instantly. "Look Katniss, I know how you feel. That what President Snow did to your family—to your sister—is unforgiveable. But that is just it, Athena has nothing to do with Snow or anyone who made us go through the horrors of the Games—the ones who took our families away from us. And if we do not do something now then we will lose ourselves in this rebellion, Katniss. We will become the enemy that we hate so much."

"Alright," she says quietly with her tired eyes closed shut, her hand brushing Pompeia's hair in a slow pattern of strokes.

"You will help me?"

"Yes." Her eyes open as she says the word, grey pools of truth finally opening up to me.

**Review! Please tell me what you think? Any ideas on how the story should develop? =]**


	27. Chapter 27 Just a Dream

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**I would like to thank everyone for reviewing and liking the story, I am so glad everyone enjoys it as much as I like writing it =]**

_**HermioneandMarkus: Thank you so much, as always =]**_

_**Guest:**_** =] thank you.**

_**CandisDrake**_**: Awe, you are too kind! I am really excited to get started on when Peeta makes it into the arena but I still have some stuff to cover first, but I am glad someone is just excited as I am. =]**

**Enjoy!**

"_Little snowflake, do not fear. For all of us have seen this all played out before, right under our very nose and stabbed into our eyes with the images of entertainment. Like the ticking of a clock, like forest set on fire, like a paradise lain out before us."_

_All round me I see the crashing waves of the ocean, I have been here before but this time it is different. This time it is hard to breathe, the air—there is something wrong with the air. _

"_Little snowflake," Cecilia's voice calls again only louder this time, closer. But why is it that when I search around for her all my eyes sea is this ocean of blue, the waves crashing on the sides of the platform with a roughness that causes my feet to sway._

_Another wave crashes into the side and I fall to my knees, gasping for breath. And then I see her, Cecilia. She walks across the water with light steps that float above the choppy waters, turning the sea from blue to violet with each step she makes—the shocking brilliance matching her hooded eyes._

"_Little snowflake," she repeats with that dreamy smile of hers._

"_Cecilia…" I blink at her, confused. "But you are—"I bite my lip, cutting myself off._

"_Dead? Or maybe I should say alive because this is the most alive I have ever been." She closes her eyes for a long moment and I notice something scribed on each lid in black ink. "But you must be careful, snowflake."_

"_What do you mean?" I stare at her but she still keeps her eyes closed so I stand up and walk closer to where she is standing on the edge of the platform. "The Games? I already know that I have to be careful."_

_Suddenly she open's her eyes flash open and the violet has been replaced by bright, vivid red. The wind closes a hand over my throat and I fall back to my knees again, chocking for air to put into my lungs while I look into the violent water. Meanwhile, the platform beneath my feet being"Little snowflake, do not fear. For all of us have seen this all played out before, right under our very nose and stabbed into our eyes with the images of entertainment. Like the ticking of a clock, like forest set on fire, like a paradise lain out before us."_

_Like the ticking of a clock, like forest set on fire, like a paradise lain out before us…_

**Athena's POV:**

I jerk awake and smack my head off of the inside of the tree, squint into the darkness, while my breath pants out in heaves and my hand tentatively touches my throat. Cecilia's words still ring in my head and those red eyes shine brightly every time I close my eyes.

_Like the ticking of a clock, like forest set on fire, like a paradise lain out before us…_

Shaking my head I peek out from the brown covering that protects the hole of the hollow of the tree. A spider crawls across my hand and I flick it off into the sunlight, and then with one quick analysis of the ground below I pack up all my stuff and make a break for it before anyone comes.

My mouth is already becoming dry and there is only a small amount of water left in the canteen I found among the survival inventory I found in the bag. I stop and listen for the sound of a stream somewhere, hopeful, but hear nothing so then I crouch down and feel the ground below me for any sign of wetness. Nothing.

Looking around, I see a path that is full of heavy shrubbery, one I have not taken yet, and walk carefully so I do not crunch my feet loudly on the fallen leaves. I walk for what seems like hours with tenseness in my shoulders that causes me to stiffen at any given noise, until I spring a bit of luck from a line of berry bushes. I examine each type, ruling out the poisonous and pocketing the edible in a bag I constructed—a piece of fabric and a string I tore off from the parachute. I pop a few of the huckleberries into my mouth—the sweet, tart taste filling my mouth as I savor it.

Finally the thirst overcame me after another few hours and the sun began to move behind the clouds, I sit in a dark set of brush to conceal myself while I take small sips. Then, I notice that the ground is damp and I jump up instantly searching around for any sign of water.

Nothing, but how can there be nothing when I distinctly felt the wetness pressing into my hand?

I look around again and walk forwards, feeling the ground for wetness on occasion, and then just as I was about to give up I hear a low silent trickle. I follow the thin stream in hopes that it will lead to something bigger and sure enough after another hour or so of walking I hear the rhythmic pounding of water.

A waterfall. I reach into my bag and grab for the water purifying kit, forcing myself not to plunge my head into the depths and guzzle up large gulps of water. After filling my canteen and another bottle I found at the bottom of the pack, I stuff everything back into my bag just in time to hear a stick snap nearby through rumbling of the waterfall.

I turn around quickly in time to see Julius, the thirteen year-old boy who use to pick on my sister paused like a deer who has just been caught by a predator. His green suite blends in with the background and his cheeks and hair are covered with dirt, it is the perfect camouflage.

"Julius," I say shortly, after a few moments and when it is clear neither one of us is reaching for a weapon just yet.

"Athena," he replies in a squeaky voice, his green eyes darting around everywhere but my eyes.

I sigh, loudly, and notice the canteen cupped in his hand. "Would you like some water?" I wave my hand in the direction of the falls.

"Is it safe?" He asks me suspiciously, frowning slightly.

"Not completely sure but I have some iodine drops to purify the water," I say lamely. Julius just stares at my extended hand that holds the iodine drops. "It is not poison, I promise." I smile, encouragingly—though I am not totally sure why.

He waits a few moments, thinking, before swiftly filling his canteen and taking the drops from my hand. After placing a few in his bottle he handed it back to me and nodded appreciatively.

I turned to leave but then I feel his eyes on my back, watching me walk away.

"What is it Julius?" I do not bother to turn around.

"You, you are just so…so—"

"So what, exactly?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"It is just—well—uhm, you are kind of weird." He looks at me for a moment and then shifts his gaze away, surveying the area.

"Weird?" My voice sounds slightly appalled but teasing. "_I'm _weird?"

"Well, yeah. We are in the Games and we were trained to kill each other but here you are making sure my water is not contaminated, unless…" he trails off and stares at me with wide eyes. "You did not trick me did you? It is not poison, right?"

I roll my eyes and smile. "No. I did not poison you, alright? My god, not everyone wants to do what others tell them."

He looks at me, confused. "What do you mean?"

I considered my response for a moment and automatically Peeta's face came into my mind. "Someone once said that they did not want to be a pon in someone else's game, that they want to die as themselves and not the way others want them to."

"Huh," he grunted. "I guess I never thought about it that way."

"That is because we were not conditioned to think that way in the good old Capitol," I pointed out.

"But you were? You father was the president, you must see how that sort of thing makes it a little unbelievable."

"Maybe but that is just because when people look at me they do not really see me, as a person, instead they see the recreation of my father. Not because I look like him, or because I even act like him—which I don't in both cases—but because I am his flesh and blood so the evilness must run through my veins."

"What about your sister?" Julius asks in a small, squeaky voice that makes me reconsider his age.

"Do you really think that is a wise subject to bring up to me? If you are trying to create an ally that is, of course." I glare at him for bringing up Pompeia, especially because he had hurt her before—had made her come home crying because he had been picking on her.

He just nods his head and downcast his eyes in response to me calling him out. After drinking and refilling the canteens again, we decide to walk on because staying here is much too risky. Julius takes the front and I cover behind us because I don't much trust him completely yet and because he is better camouflaged then I am so he will be able to see what is in front of us without setting off any ideas to our opponents.

"You know about your sister—"he cuts himself off, swallowing hard before deciding to continue. "I did not tease her to be mean, and I did not mean to make her cry."

"Oh," I said in a clipped voice. I stare at his back, squinting hard and listening to pick up any signs of falseness because I cannot look into his eyes to determine if he is lying.

"I…I—uh, I liked her."

"Liked her?" I was seriously confused; he liked my soon-to-be seven-year-old sister?

"Yeah," he said weakly to the ground before us. "I really like her."

"Like her," I say in a dazed voice, puzzled by his meaning. "Well everyone generally likes Pompeia, what is there not to like?"

And then it all clicks. "Whoa, wait are you saying you _like _my sister, as in _like like_?" I stare at him, wide eyed and he turns around with a shameful expression. "How _old _are you?"

"Nine," he answers easily.

"Nine!" I exclaim and then look around to make sure Brutus did not hear me and was coming to ripe us apart, slowly. "I thought you were like thirteen."

"No…"

"She is six, practically a baby," I hiss at him.

"Well, she does not talk like one. Or look like a baby." His shoulders slump and I pinch the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger, thinking. I look back up and he is staring at me. "I just wanted to tell you that because I am sorry I hurt her, and that I am glad that you volunteered for her. That at least she is safe from all of this." He gestures with his hand all around us.

I sigh and attempt to be nice despite the topic of conversation. "Noted, and I am obviously glad she is not here either."

He nods and we continue forward quietly, keeping our eyes and ears trained on alert for any on the other tributes. I look up into the sky to do an above analysis and see a parachute gliding down to us; I catch the basket easily and inspect the contents.

"What is it?" Julius asks in a whisper.

I see the thick layer of jerky packaged on top and groan softly, I brush the meat aside and find my heart lifting at the sight of a small, thin loaf of bread and a bag of dried fruit and nuts. I hold the jerk out to Julius, two large handfuls that cause his eyes to go as round as saucers. "You want me to have all of them?"

I nod as a response but when he keeps staring at me I shoot an annoyed look at him. "I do not eat meat," I grumble. "I thought everyone in the Capitol knew that, it was in the paper gossip once and daddy dearest was _not _happy." I snort at the memory of the headline of the Capitol press, _Daughter of President Refuses to Eat Main Course at Dinning Party—Did the Prim Meat Not Fit the Prim Madonna's High Expectations, or Is She to Become a Rabbit like Her Mother._

"Oh yeah, I forgot." He smirks and his eyes grow mischievous and teasing. "You are a rabbit, right?"

I stare at him seriously, dead seriously until the smirk slides off his face and becomes replaced with an uneasy expression. Then, I wiggle my nose like a rabbit and break out into a smile. Julius bursts out laughing and I cover my mouth to not make too much noise.

"Now, now just what is so funny?" Julius and I stop dead and our tracks and look behind us; I curse myself instantly for not paying close enough attention while Julius and I were talking because there—in clear view—stands Brutus leaning casually against a tree with Anthony and Arria smirking behind him. "We want to be let in on the joke. Don't we guys?"

Brutus does not bother to look back to see the brother and sister nodding enthusiastically but he could clearly hear them laughing at his little joke.

"Julius," I whisper because I feel him close enough behind me to be able to hear as I speak silently. "When I throw this basket, I want you to run like you have never run before." I slowly tuck the contents into my bag while watching Brutus' eyes following my motions with that cocky smile of his. My fingers close around a few knives discreetly when I pull my hand back out and zip the bag.

Brutus eyes me up and down, making his way slowly up my body and causing my skin to crawl. "I have been looking for you, partner. Where have you been hiding all this time? And with a little boy, too." Brutus cocks his head at Julius and rubs his hands together, and for a second I see a flash of the memory of him calmly snapping the boy in blues neck.

I open my mouth like I am ready to respond to his stupid observation and then I throw the basket at Brutus, followed by a knife. As expected, he catches the basket easily in his hand but did not anticipate a knife to follow so when one of the knives imbedded in his palm he let out a cry of outrage.

"You little bitch," he growled as he pulled the knife out of his palm but Julius and I had already taken off running. "Well do not just stand there you idiots! Go after them," I hear him yell at Anthony and Arria from a considerable distance.

I lose Julius somewhere in the mad rush, his camouflage probably taking into effect quickly. And I see a tree that I would be able to climb even though my stomach turns at the very thought, however, I know that I am ten times lighter that all of my pursuers—even Arria.

My hands grasp bark limbs and I hoist myself up higher and higher, reminding myself not to look down until I reach the very top and up to safety. Finally I make it and I try and ground myself mentally before looking down but then my head spins when I calculate how far from the ground I am. Bile rises in my throat but I try my best to force it back down as my hands tremble, I let out large, labored breathes trying to calm myself.

Brutus stares up at me, smirking. "What's the matter, Princess? Cat stuck in a tree. Do not worry. If you come down now I promise to play nice a little before I kill you. And believe me, the way I _play_,you will _enjoy_ every second of it."

"Why don't you come up here and play, Brutus? The view—"I breathe another big inhale and exhale. "The view is spectacular."

Brutus glowers at me and gestures to Anthony and Arria to start climbing to get me but when the two try to climb the tree the limbs begin to break off and they fall with a loud thump. Though, unfortunately, they both were not up high enough for the fall to do any effective damage.

"What's the matter, Brutus? Are you too afraid to come up and get me yourself?" I smirked at him confidently but the bile in my throat begins to rise and I can taste the vile bitterness on the back of my tongue.

"You toy with me now Princess but when I finally get to you—and I will—you will be begging me to let you die but then I will make you suffer longer, until the moment when you have given up completely all hope."

I go to remark on how full of crap he is and that I will be the one finishing him off but the words just will not seem to come out because my self-control has seemed to reach its breaking point.

"Why Princess, you do not look so well, did I strike a nerve? You look a little pale. Maybe you are now fearing just how slowly I am going to let you die, maybe I will take it easy on you if you be a good little girl and come down. Then again, maybe I will not."

One of my hands grasp a tree limb for support while the other clamps down in a fist to cover my mouth, my head is spinning out of control by this point and I am losing focus of the words Brutus is continuingly shouting up at me. God my head hurts; I wish he would just shut up. I wonder if I asked him to be quiet for one minute he would humor me until the rising sickness in my stomach passed.

"Yoo-hoo, Princess, come on and I promise you will like what I do to you before I choke the life out of you."

With both hands grasping onto the tree for support I peer down at him, annoyed and irritated but that was clearly a mistake because the spinning increased to an impossible speed. And that is when it happened.

I threw up.

"Oh my God," Arria screeched and ran around shaking her head frantically upside down. "It is in my hair, it is in my hair! Anthony, get it out. Get it out right now, this is so disgusting."

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, grimacing but instantly feeling a little better. And then I find something very surprising, lucky mind you but surprising. There is a hollow in the body of the tree right below me, and in it is a sleeping mutation of a squirrel. "You know, there is a stream down that way I say pointing in the opposite direction that it really is." Arria immediately takes off in that direction, pulling a flustered Anthony with her and continuing to screech in horror and disgust.

It was silent for a moment but I could still feel Brutus' eyes on me, watching me.

"That…was disgusting, Princess." I swung around the side of the tree and down carefully to close to the hollow of the tree without waking the animal as Brutus continued to remark on my phobia and sickness. "Brilliant but completely disgusting."

Quickly I slide my hands under the squirrel's body gently so I do not rouse it, and then I throw it at Brutus before he can even say another word. The reaction is instant, the animal wakes and begins to viciously attack Brutus as he swings his arms around to get it as it leaves big slash marks on either side of his cheeks, then on his arms and neck as it crawls up and down his body with phenomenal speed.

I crawl down the tree quickly, not looking down unless it is to place my foot on another branch, and then I begin running the moment my feet hit the ground. Brutus screams eventually become a distant sound the more distance I put between us, and then it is quiet again.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply as I take slow steps but then I feel a sweeping change in the air around me, comfortable warmth that causes me to gasp in surprise. My eyes open and all around me is big, multicolored flowers, cheerful birds chirping in the sunlight, a waterfall sparkling in the distance, and big gleaming rocks covering the ground covered in a pleasant, green colored moss.

I hear a sound behind me and pull out my knife only to find Julius lurking from behind a tree that is half forest branches and half paradise leaves. I nod at him and pocket the knife again, turning back to the scene before us.

"Well, this is unexpected." Julius remarks while examining a four-leaf clover. "Do you think this is edible?"

"I would not eat anything here just yet if I were you," I reply and inhale sharply when I see huge lady bug crawl passed us but seeming to have with no intention of harming us. The shell of it was a vivid red that reminded me of Cecilia's eyes in my dream, or I guess I should say nightmare.

_Like the ticking of a clock, like forest set on fire, like a paradise lain out before us…_

**What awaits Athena in this false paradise? Will Peeta be able to find her in all these new places that keep coming up? And when will Peeta get there and how…hmm, these are the questions =] Review please!**


	28. Chapter 28 Hell's Paradise

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games**_**!**

**Thank you everyone for reviewing, liking, and making my story one of your favorites. It means so much. Thank you! =]**

**Peeta's POV:**

Katniss had been having Peeta weight train more to strengthen his leg so he would be able to balance out the other if he did not have something to use as a cane. He had been working on that for the past couple years so Peeta didn't really see the point in doing further, he just thought Katniss was afraid that he would go barreling into the Games and get himself killed without her there to help him.

This thought kind of pissed him off because he felt like he was running out of time, wasting moments that he could be finding Athena and helping her. So as Peeta weight trained he began to jump into the argument with Katniss, again.

"I want to go in today, Katniss. I should have already left," he begins and seeing her look he feels a spark of anger form inside him. "Don't give me that look, I need to help her."

"For right now, she has been taking good care of herself and you have to trust the fact that she can take care of herself Peeta. She is not weak," Katniss replies, frowning at him.

"And I am? I know she can take care of herself; I did most of her training with her while you were off with Brutus being a pain in the ass. My leg is strong enough to go in, how about you trust what I am telling you." Peeta sighs in frustration and sets down the weights he had been lifting.

"I do trust you and am listening to you, okay? But I am telling that cannot handle this like a lover-sick man who thinks he is going to play hero," she said irritated. Then seeing his face softened her voice a bit, "I am sorry if that was harsh but I just do not want to watch you die, Peeta."

The anger begins to ease away when I look at her, look at how much she is struggling with letting me go with the possibility of watching me die. "It will be okay, Katniss. Hey," he says to her and then walk over to her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug as she breathes into my chest slow, controlled breathes that were so familiar from our nights in bed together before she decided to be with Gale. "It will be alright, I promise I will come back so I can be as much of a pain in the ass as you are to me."

She laughs softly, causing movement in his chest that causes Peeta's heart to beat harder, more painfully because this is all too familiar and he almost forgot how much he missed holding her.

She looks up at me with those shining grey eyes and my lips part unconsciously while he breathes her in, Peeta's heart is pounding and before he knows it he can feel her breath on his lips. And then she jerks her head back, staring at him with wide eyes and blushing scarlet. Athena's face comes into Peeta's head and his heart begins to hurt, torn between new feelings and old.

"Katniss…" He begins reaching out to her as she pushes Peeta away.

"Don't Peeta," she glares and moves away from him. "I am with Gale, you know that, and what about Athena?"

"Katniss—I just…I, look, I am sorry."

"You're damn right you should be sorry," she says and Peeta begins to feel overwhelmingly guilty. "You just told me you _needed _to go help her but what happens if you bring her back and…" Katniss trails off and stares at him, unbelieving.

"What? What Katniss?" Peeta's stomach clenches because at this point he had no idea what to expect. But she does not say a word, just keeps staring at him with a haunting expression. "Damn it, Katniss I loved you. Okay? I am sorry if that was hard to get over after years of waiting and then finally having you, only to have you taken away again because you would rather be with another man."

She just keeps staring at him.

"What Katniss? Damn it, say something, just quite acting like I just killed someone."

At first Peeta did not think she would speak, that she would just continue to stare at him with that expression on her face until he finally stormed out of the room. But when she finally spoke, he almost wished she did not.

"I thought you had to be careful not to get your heart broken by her," she begins and frowns, those grey eyes sad and surprised. "But I am not so sure anymore, maybe it is Athena that should be careful not to get her heart broken."

"Katniss, I would never—"he begins to say but is cut off by her cutting glare.

"Wouldn't you? Peeta you almost just kissed me, have you kissed her?" Peeta's face reddens and Katniss shakes her head slowly. "I thought so but she was already hurt by what you said to her before she went into the Games."

"She was hurt that bad?"

"Of course she was hurt, you idiot, she likes you! And at one time that scared the heck out of me but now I am not sure who to be scared for anymore." She shakes her head again, "was she hurt? Why do you think she punched you? It surely wasn't to demonstrate her blinding affections for you at that moment."

"But I didn't mean what I said," Peeta bellowed frustrated. "I was trying to protect her, do you know what Coin and them would say if saw me talking with her intimately? Let alone if I held her or kissed her."

"Peeta," she says slowly. "What do you think the District and Coin is going to say when you leave to go help her? Before you do anything you need to make sure this is what you want because once you leave there will be consequences. Consequences so dire that are not going to be pretty or pleasant."

"I have to do what is right," he whispers, a tenseness entering his shoulders. Peeta stares at the ground for a few moments then looks up at Katniss from beneath his eyelashes. "You said you would help me, Katniss. Will you keep that promise and help me find a way into the Games?"

"Of course," she breathes. "I promised and I will keep my word, you know that."

Peeta smiles, slightly, because it was something that he use to know and used to understand until he discovered that Katniss was not what anyone could call predictable. His broken heart could prove that.

"Good, so then you will help me go into the Games. By tomorrow," I say and watch her reaction with began to crease once she realized he was completely serious.

"Peeta," she starts but he just moves closer to her, towering above her until she understands that with or without her help he would find a way to go. "Alright, tomorrow, but you are taking supplies and weapons with you."

Peeta nods. "Thank you."

"Better for me to help you then you go and get yourself killed," she mumbles unhappily. Peeta just smiles a small smile and reach out to cup her cheek, watching as she stares back at him with cold grey eyes.

"Thank you, really." He drops his hand and steps away from her with a sigh.

**Athena's POV:**

This place is so strange and beautiful, like a whole other world were the Games do not exist and all you want to do is sit and stare at the beauty that is around you.

A mutated bee flies by us, twice our size and furry with big vibrant wings. "Do you think it is a threat to us?" Julius asks staring at the bee, uneasily.

"Currently? No, but I think it can be if it wants to—like anything designed by the Capitol." I look around at the intricately designed trees with big, smooth leaves canopying us from the heat.

"That's comforting," Julius mumbles squinting above the trees where the giant insect disappeared through the vining's of huge flowers.

"I know," I reply smiling, snorting because it is far from comical but my laughter seems to lighten the mood a bit. "Isn't it?"

We both see the rushing waterfall and glance at each other because our canteens have been empty for a few hours, which hasn't led to dire need but noticeable discomfort due to this humid heat.

"I bet I can beat you there," Julius declares, smirking. I raise an eyebrow at him, laugh, and then push him before starting up my pace to the waterfall. "Hey! No fair, you got a head start."

"Sucks," I call back to him laughing as I increase my speed.

I splash into the cool, shallow water and bring out my canteen to fill and after I purify it I go to fill my other bottle, until I notice the silence around me. I glance back, searching for Julius but I just do not see him.

"Julius?" I whisper into the valley of beautiful trees and flowers. Listening, I hear not a sound except the hum of the enchanted paradise. "Julius, where are you?"

"Athena," a strangled voice manages to call out. Julius. I begin running back to search for him, my eyes flicking over everything in a desperate search.

"Julius," I call out, forgetting to be quiet.

"Ah—th—ah" Julius manages to respond and I rip through the leaves, vines and kicking aside the flowers closing in around me. And then I find him in the grasp of a big, bright-green and orange-checkered snake that coils tightly around Julius' body. Suffocating him.

It only takes a few seconds for me to unsheathe my knives and I stab its thick body until it releases Julius and comes after me.

I pull out more of my knives and jump on the huge, beautifully colored serpent, stabbing knives into its body and stepping on its head until strange neon purple blood drips down its body.

It finally stops moving and I get up slowly, ready to wash the blood from my suite that seems to be covered in neon purple.

"Athena," Julius suddenly gasps weakly. Coughing out the words, slowly. "Watch out!"

I hear a hiss behind me and I whip around in time to get the snakes fangs imbedded in my shoulder. I gasp and grit my teeth painfully, raising my other hand that holds knives and begin sawing off its head quickly.

Julius picks up a gleaming rock and smashes it down on the snake's body, hoping to direct its attention but it only causes it to sink its fangs into me further until I cry out and cut into it harder, more roughly.

And then the body slumps away from the head which impales my shoulder, hanging there like strange, brightly colored armor.

"Julius," I say weakly. "Go back into the woods and find the berries with purple speckled leaves, they will look poisonous but they will help draw the infection out."

"Athena, you don't think…you don't think that thing was poisonous, do you?" His voice sounds so afraid and helpless, like any young kids would.

I shake my head and gritting my teeth I begin to pull apart the locked jaws of the snake head from my shoulder. "No, the leaves and berries are just so the wound doesn't get infected."

He nods, slowly and uneasily, before taking off into the direction of the woods.

"Be careful, Julius." I warn but I am not so sure he heard me because when I look up he is already gone.

I finally get the jaws open enough to slide the fangs out of the meat of my shoulder and I bite down on a stick to keep from screaming, and toss the head away in disgust and anger.

After walking to the waterfall and washing out the wound and blood—mine and the snake's— out of my suite, I inspect my shoulder.

"Damn it," I hiss out because it is worse than I thought. The poison tingles in my shoulder and causes it to go numb as black ink-like substance slitters out where each fang once was.

I try to get up and the world begins to tilt as my head spins, until I lose my footing and fall into a pit of darkness that smells faintly of buttercups and freshly cut grass.

**Review! Please? =]**


	29. Chapter 29 Time is Running Out

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games**_**!**

**Thank you to everyone who is following, reviewing and favoring the story! Makes me so happy =]**

**Enjoy!**

"_Athena," a voice calls from somewhere in the distance but everything is black around me. I squint but the darkness is so complete that it feels like I have become blind, and my hands shake at the thought of Cecilia._

"_Athena," the whisper repeats so soft and gentle that I barely hear its call in the sound of the wind blowing around in the darkness._

"_Cecilia," I whisper back but only the howl of the wind answers until I squint harder into the darkness and see a beam of light illuminated in the distance. I watch as it slowly gets bigger and brighter until I see the silhouette of a woman nearing me in the halo of light._

"_Athena," the voice whispers my name again and I begin to recognize her familiar features. The image of her leaves me frozen._

"_Am I dead?" I ask her, thinking about the poisonous bite of the mutated snake._

_She smiles, a small sad smile that I had seen on her face too many times to count. "No, my darling, you are not dead."_

"_But if I do not do something to get the poison out I will be, right?"_

_She sighs and looks away, her long, blonde hair and white dress fluttering in the breeze. "Athena…"_

"_Do not lie to me, mother. Just do this one thing for me, please. I am a big girl; I can take the honest truth." The words came out a little too bitter than I hoped but I could not take back the words I had said. Her blue eyes stare at me, big and afraid, while her mouth parts like Pompeia's when she gets upset about something. _

"_Please?" I ask her the question quietly, pleading for the answer with my eyes and requesting forgiveness for my harsh words. "I need to know."_

_She stares at me sadly for a moment. "Yes," she says softly. "You must get the venom out before the poison reaches your heart and makes it stop beating, you have a little time but eventually your body will shut down."_

"_I thought I already would have been dead because the poison already entered my bloodstream."_

"_It did, the venom is toxic and it is cycling through your veins now but your little friend—" she pauses and bites her lip, on her the action is just as delicate and beautiful as it was years ago when I would watch her brush her hair and tell me stories about Greek Mythology._

"_Julius," I gasp remembering that I sent him on a search for the berries and leaves._

"_Yes, Julius, he is trying everything to get you to wake up. You are giving him quiet a scare in the state that you are in," she says searching my eyes calmly._

"_How long do I have?"_

"_How long do you have for what exactly, my nike?" She says with adoration and patience. And since I have heard just about every story of Athena for her as a child I could follow what she was saying._

"_Do not get cute with me, mother. You know what I mean, how long until the poison gets pumped into my heart?"_

"_My nike…"she mutters looking out into the darkness until it lights up and I blink seeing the old tree her and I used to sit under when she would always tell me stories._

"_Mother," I said firmly. _

_Her eyes met mine again and she frowned. "You are so young, you have so much to live for… to see the world without your father clouding the way, to look at life for the beauty that it is, and to love."_

"_Yeah, well, if you cannot already tell, life is not looking very beautiful right now so will you just tell me how long so I can get on with my life." _

"_It will be two days before the venom reaches your heart but by then you will get very sick, my nike, you must hold on and find a particular herb that will clean out your blood until the venom is eliminated from your bloodstream."_

"_What is it? Have I seen it before?" I ask immediately. But when I look at her she shakes her head slowly. _

"_No, my nike, I have never shown it to you. It is under surfaces of water, under the deepness where the falls pound down on the floor of sand—"_

"_God," I say in disgust, shaking my head. "You make it sound like a big quest. It's a plant for goodness sake."_

"_In a way it is a quest, Athena, because the greatest treasure is your life." Her figure starts to become blurry and I squint to keep her in my view, panicking._

"_Wait! How do I find it if you did not tell me what it looks like?" I call out to her but I am already falling into the darkness. _

"_Athena," her voice whispers softly._

"_Mother! Come back, please." I cry out weakly but the effort is so weighty and I have gotten so very tired._

"_Athena…"_

**Athena's POV:**

"Athena," a boyish voice whispers frantically. A wet cloth wipes at my face, cooling it but the rest of my body feels like an oven. "Athena, please. Wake up, come on."

I open on eye and smirk at Julius, "You did not think that you could get rid of me that easily now did you?"

"Do not do that," he sighs in relief. "I thought I would have to deal with your dead body for a moment there."

I sit up; wincing as my muscles scream in objection but it is not to the point of unbearable yet. "We should get moving, it is not safe to just stay here while we are being hunted."

"But…you shoulder—"he begins but I cut him off.

"My shoulders fine for right now, come on." I begin walking; acting like every step does not take effort, and sweating up a storm. Julius follows behind me for a few hours before he places a hand on my arm.

"Athena, you need to stop. You're not well," his voice squeaks. I peer at him though my hazy vision and I smile at him, at least I think I do because it feels like my face is not cooperating.

"I am fine, Julius." I insist but even to my own ears the protest sounds weak and he slips an arm around my waist to shoulder some of my weight. I give him an appreciative glance but do not admit that my legs now feel like jello flopping around with every step I take. Despite this fact, I make sure to keep more weight on my side so I do not fall over and crush him or anything.

"No, we should set up camp. We can find somewhere safe enough that we can take a look at your shoulder and clean it again," Julius says searching around and glancing above in the trees.

"Uh, if we are searching—which I do not think we should stop—it would probably be a good idea for me to stay on the ground." I glance away while I feel his curious eyes pinning me with a stare.

"Is this about you throwing up?" he asked suddenly, totally clueless of my phobia. "Are you feeling sick again?"

"No…" I stare at the ground feeling stupid.

"Then what is it?"

"Nothing," I say feigning to be casual.

"No, not nothing," he says annoyed and growing impatient. "What is it?

"I am afraid of heights, alright." The words just spill out of my mouth and I just wait for him to start laughing, so I am surprised when I just hear silence. But when I look up at him, Julius is grinning ear to ear.

"It is not funny," I grumble but that makes his grin widen.

"So that is why you…you know," he says smirk-smiling and gesturing in an outward motion that clearly directed from his mouth to out in front of him.

I just glare at him and shake my head. "No, I do not believe I know what you are talking about," I deny pretending to try and recollect the subject but acting like I am coming up with nothing.

"Right, I am so sure you do not recall upchucking on Arria, which was hilarious to see by the way."

I glare at him playfully, "Hush up."

"It was!" he says excitedly. "She was all like—oh my god! Anthony! Get it out, get it out!" He laughs, loudly but then he slaps his hand over his mouth.

I laugh silently, "It was a little funny."

"Was it now?" a feminine voice breaks out through the cover of vines and flowers. Arria pushes aside a vine and steps forward as Anthony comes out from behind us.

"How strange," she purrs in a low, sultry voice. "Because I did not seem to find it very funny at all…"she steps forward quickly and grabs two handfuls of my suite, dragging me towards her.

"In fact," she says searching my eyes with her predatory stare. "I found it disgusting, _Princess_." She hisses the last word and pushes me down to the ground, pouncing on top of me, and looking to Anthony.

"Anthony, give me your knife." I try to get up but she presses down on my injured shoulder and I grit my teeth in pain. She smiles at my reaction as Anthony hands her a knife, while he keeps a firm hold on Julius though it doesn't take much effort because he is about three times the size of Julius.

"Awe. What's wrong, Athena?" Arria asks in a mock-sympathetic voice. "Does it hurt when I do _this_?" She presses down on my shoulder with two of her fingers and smiles when I gasp.

"Arria," Anthony warns her with his eyes on the trees behind her. "You remember what Brutus said that if we find her first then we are supposed to wait to kill her."

She glares at him, blonde-mahogany-streaked curls flipping as she peers up at him with her grip on the knife still posed at my throat. "You have got to be kidding me Anthony," she cries out wildly. "I can kill her now and it will be over with, and you can kill _him_."

She gestures to Julius, whose eyes widen even more at her acknowledgement of him. But Anthony just locks eyes with her and shakes his equally blonde-mahogany-streaked head. "Arria, I said no. Follow orders, you saw what he can do."

"Fine," she huffs and turns back to me narrowing her eyes to slits.

"Awe," I whine out, mocking her tone. "What's wrong Arria? Is someone afraid of little old Bruno?"

Her eyes flash with anger and she slaps me across the face with the butt of the knife, I taste the blood on my bottom lip where she dragged the back of the knife across when she hit me. She bends her face down to mine and smiles, digging her other hand into my shoulder tightly. The pain is almost blinding, but somehow I think I manage to force a smile to grin back at her.

"I cannot kill you, yet, but I believe there is no harm in having a little fun before Brutus comes." Her smile widens, her perfect white teeth gleaming in my face as she presses the knife to the side of my face. She runs the side of the cold metal surface from the length of my cheek to my throat, where she makes a tiny slit. "How many shallow cuts do you think it would take for you to die? With a very careful hand, I think it would take hours. Days even. Don't you?"

She makes another slit and leans into my shoulder. "I am—"I pant back to her through gritted teeth. "I am looking forward to it."

She glares and makes a long shallow cut from my temple to the center of my cheek, while leaning more of her weight on my shoulder. "I think—"

"I think that is enough," a voice interrupts smoothly. Brutus, I do not even have to glance around to recognize his arrogant drawl. Arria's eyes widen and she immediately jumps off of me and frolics over to Anthony, hiding behind him like a scared rabbit.

I laugh, and she glares at me but she says nothing. "You trained your dog's well, Bruno." I sit up and smirk at him, slyly. "To bad one doesn't listen very well when the masters not home."

"It is good to see you, Princess. I was disappointed when our other meeting was cut short," he says calmly but something dangerous flashes in his eyes. Claw marks run down the sides of his face, down his arms, and left slashes in the front of his suite. Brutal little squirrel.

"Run into a squirrel problem, did you?" I barely have time to finish the cocky statement before he grabs me by the front of the suite and shoves me against a nearby tree with such a force that it knocks the breath out of me.

"As a matter of fact," he grins down at me lowering his head further so his lips brush the shell of me ear. "Yes. I did."

My stomach churns at the sensation of his breath in my ear, and Brutus just laughs at my silence but I hear Julius struggling to get free of Anthony's grip. "But first I think we need to take care of a _little _problem." He drops me just as fast as he grabbed me and walks over to where Anthony is holding the struggling Julius, while I weakly spill onto the ground and try to pick myself up to help Julius defend himself.

But the poison has made me so weak, I could almost feel it weighing down my arms and pinning my legs to the ground so that it feels like any effort to walk would be useless. Impossible. But then I remember my knife and I rush to throw it at Anthony before Brutus gets to him, the knife sinks in with a satisfying thump and Anthony cries out.

I smile thinking how Julius' quick feet would take off the first chance he got but instead I hear him cry out. I see Brutus must have grabbed him before he could make his get-away, and then Brutus grins at me and pulls the knife in Anthony's arm out. He waves it at me while dangling Julius in a firm grip with one hand, and suddenly I feel very sick.

"No!" I cry out but Brutus sticks Julius in the heart in one swift motion and drops his body on the ground, while he grins at me like a devil.

"Now," Brutus says walking over to me. "Where were we?"

I just stare in horror at Julius' wide green eyes staring back at me from on the ground before me, eyes that were once so alive with laughter and hesitant affection for my sister. Now all that remains is a dead, empty shell.

"Oh yes." I jump as Brutus speaks into my ear from behind me. "Now I remember," he says self-importantly. He grabs me again before the shock can fully register, and pins me against the tree again.

"What the hell do you want?" I grit through my teeth. "Aren't you just going to try to kill me already…"

"I promised you that I would show you a good time before I killed you, remember Athena? And that you would like what I did to you," he says huskily in my ear before licking the shell of it. "I expect to keep my promise, Princess."

I jerk away from him but he grabs my arms and pins them above my head, I wince at the pressure it puts on my shoulder. Anger heats up inside me; I can practically feel the poison boiling in my veins fueling my fury.

"How does it feel, Princess?" His lips brush my neck, skimming down to my collarbone and biting into my skin until I reach my breaking point. "To be so helpless? So very weak?

I sigh like I am enjoying his escapade and bring a leg up as if to wrap around his waist and he smirks, looking into my face and twitching his eyebrows suggestively. "I knew you would want it," he says conceitedly and bends down dangerously close to my lips. "I knew you would enjoy every second of it."

He presses his lips to mine and I jerk my leg up between his legs hard and fast, making direct contact with a very sensitive area of his that causes him to drop down to the ground and moan in pain.

"Ever touch me again," I fume at him. "And I will make sure you last breathe is to beg my forgiveness." I glare at him one last time, glance at Arria and Anthony who just stare at me in shock, and then grab my bag and run for it.

"I will find you, Athena!" I hear Brutus yell through his moans of pain. "I have done it before and I will do it again, over and over I will find you. You can never hide from me, Princess!"

I keep running until I can no longer hear any sound of Brutus or anything, until all I hear is the rush of the waterfall and I dive in the ice cold water. I swim long strokes, ignoring the faded pain of my shoulder which is becoming numbed by the cold. I peer into the pounding white water, squinting, before taking a deep breath and diving under.

After swimming hard under the falling water I come up gasping, hoping I do not receive a mouthful of water, and peer into the dim light around me. I swim until the water becomes shallow, crawl through the shallow part, and pull myself up onto the rocks.

The energy that had been provided by my anger had long faded in the frigid water. I laid on my back, chest heaving and my whole body shivering under fever even though I was cold, and my vision becomes hazy.

Finally, I fall back into the pit of darkness as Julius' dead, empty shell eyes haunt my memory.

**So tell me what you think? Should I have Peeta just show up or have him go through a process of getting ready and entering the Games? Thoughts, ideas? Let me know! Review Please!**


	30. Chapter 30 Delusions

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**Athena's POV:**

Blinking in the darkness, I take small controlled sips of water to try to quench the burning in my throat and the rest of my body. There are some berries left over in the make-shift packages I had made with Julius but I do not feel much like eating, in fact, the very thought causes me to feel sick to my stomach.

The fever that has taken over my body causes me to sweat immensely, a sticky sweat that hints at my lack of water consumption, and makes me feel unbearably weak.

"Peeta," I do not know why I whisper his name into the darkness around me—the only a slit of light coming from a small hole in the top of the cave overhead by the moonlight. Perhaps the fever is making me delusional.

I close my eyes and force so berries down my throat but once they hit my stomach my stomach turns and bile rises in my throat. They barely have time to digest before I am vomiting them back up in violent heaves, which causes the burning in my lungs and chest to tingle painfully.

"I am going to die Peeta," I whisper to him after turning to press my hot cheek against the cool stone floor.

"No you are not," a masculine voice answers and my eyes flick open, alarmed by the familiar sound. I find myself staring at Peeta, who is still clothed in his training gear from the last time I saw him in the training room, when he screamed at me and called me pathetic.

It is impossible for him to be here, or to find me in all this mess. "Yes. Yes I am," I tell him weakly. "And very soon, I can feel the poison burning its way through my veins. I will be a slow and painful process, until it finally makes its way to my heart."

He moves closer to me and crouches down beside me, running a hand over my tangled curls and tucking the locks that hang in my face behind my ear. It is a tender gesture that causes my heart to contract. "I won't let that happen."

"Why are you here?" My voice is weak and pathetic, reminding me of his opinion of me.

"Because I care about you," he says with that tender look in his blue eyes. However, something about his image—the lack of focus—seems off.

I shake my head, "no you do not." I stare at him as he frowns at me and touches my cheek with his fingertips.

"How can you say that, Athena?" Peeta asks me gently, all too gently for him. "Of course I do, I care about you a lot."

"Then why did you tell me all of that stuff, get close to me, and then call me out in front of everyone. You insulted me in front of the entire Capitol and District, not that matters where or who you insulted me in front of, but it is just the mere fact that you called me pathetic. And that hurt," I say and hear the anger and hurt laced in my words.

He looks at me for a long moment and then wraps his arms around me. I try to push him away but I am so tired and weak, and fighting him takes about every last once of energy that is left inside of me. "Athena, please, I am sorry."

I try to push him away one last time before collapsing into his warm, stable body and tears flood my vision because I am so tired and afraid. "Peeta, I do not want to die. I want to see my sister again, I want to walk away from all of this and make sure she never has to hurt again."

"You will," Peeta says and gathers me up so my head is resting in his lap, while he runs his hand over my hair in calm strokes. "Athena, I will not let you die."

"I don't think you have a choice in the matter, Peeta." I look up at him and smile sadly. "Do you really think that I am pathetic?"

He stares at me for a long moment and I almost fear that he is not going to answer, but then he strokes my cheek and bends down to kiss my cheek. The feel of his warm lips on my hot cheek causes the spot to tingle, and I remember that is the cheek that Arria cut open. However, when I stare at Peeta he has no blood on his lips from where he kissed me and he does not say anything about the injuries that I received.

"No, Athena. I do not think you are pathetic, you are one of the strongest people I know." Somehow the words just do not seem genuine, do not seem like the way he speaks.

I close my eyes and tell myself this is not real, and reopen them. My head rests on the cave floor, my curly hair tangled in a black mess in my face, and I cover my face with my hands. I draw my hands away from my face and stare at the one hand covered in blood, the one that Arria had cut from my temple to the middle of my cheek. The cheek that Peeta had kissed, and that still tingled lightly where I thought his lips had rested only moments before.

Peeta is gone, a delusion of my imagination and fever. I am alone.

**Peeta's POV:**

Katniss and Peeta sneak down to the transfer room, while Gale stays behind to cause the surveillance monitors to crash momentarily and Haymitch waits on the outside of the door to keep watch for Coin or any of her soldiers.

Peeta is dressed in my gear and have a survival pack with weapons, water and food slung over his shoulder. Katniss stares at him for a long moment before throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace. "Peeta, please, be careful and try to stay clear from Brutus at all costs."

He frowns at her, disgruntled by her lack of confidence in him. "I could handle him," he tells her defensively.

Katniss sighs, frowning. "Peeta do not mess around with him, there is something seriously messed up about Brutus. You have not seen the way he destroys things without an ounce of remorse, he is so much worse than all the Careers that I have seen over the years. He is ruthless and cruel, and he seems to have targeted Athena in some sick, twisted way."

"All the more reason for me to protect her against him," Peeta replies and begins walking over to the transfer pod.

"Wait Peeta," Katniss says firmly and places a hand on his arm. "There is something else before we wait for Gale's signal to go."

"What is it?"

Katniss pulls something out of her pocket at bag with an assortment of herbs, a syringe and some kind of medicine. She tries to hand it over to Peeta but he just shakes his head at her. "I will be fine Katniss; I do not need any medicine."

She shakes her head at his objection. "It is not for you," she says quietly.

"What do you mean?" Panic suddenly grips his heart.

"It is for Athena," she answers him and then seeing his face she begins to explain. "She got bitten by a mutated snake that Coin put in as a last minute addition; I think this medicine should help rid her of the venom's poison."

"The snake was poisonous," Peeta cries out in outrage and begins pacing. He grabs the bag and stuffs it into his pack. "Then I need to get to her fast, did Gale find out the coordinates to where she is right now?"

"Yes," Katniss responds and hands him over a map that has the waterfall circled.

"How can she be in a waterfall? She would not stay out in the open like that," Peeta remarks confused.

"That is what everyone else is wondering, Coin is going berserk up there trying to locate where she is at. But I think I figured it out," she says with a small smile.

"Where?"

"I think she is within the waterfall," she replies confidently. "My father once told me a story about a man who was searching for treasure for weeks upon weeks and he finally went into the pool of water by the waterfall for a swim. The man dived underneath the falls and found a hidden cave that concealed the treasure."

"Does Coin know about this?"

"No," Katniss shakes her head at him. "So once Gale shuts down the monitors, you will have about three hours to find her before we get everything started back up. We will try to delay things as much as possible but you know how good some of Coin's men are at computers."

Peeta nods and looks at the map closer, contemplating the path that he wants to take. And then a beeping sound comes from Katniss' pocket and she clicks it off, turning to Peeta. "Gale is about to shut everything down in one minute so go ahead and get into the transfer pod," she says and then hesitates. "Are you sure you want to do this, Peeta?"

"Of course," Peeta says firmly. And then pulls her into one last hug before he walks over to the transfer pod. "Don't worry, Mockingjay, I will be back before you know it to help you stir up some trouble."

Katniss smiles a small, sad smile and the device beeps again. "See you soon, Peeta. Be careful." She walks over to press the button that causes the plate to rise, to bring Peeta up to the Hunger Games.

Peeta smiles and nods at her as the transfer pod begins to rise, until he can no longer see her and he is surrounded by forest that brings him back to the very first games that Katniss and him participated in. All the horror that he had seen, never thinking he would have to see again, becomes alive in not just his paint and canvas. Instead, it thrives on his memories in the form of the woods before him.

He looks around, listening to the dead silence of the forest and inhales deeply before beginning to walk on his two feet without the aid of any cane or walking stick.

"I am coming Athena," Peeta whispers to the horizon and starts off into the direction of the second part of the Games—the paradise where the waterfall is located. "Just hold on, sweetheart."

**So what do you think? How should Athena and Peeta's meeting go when Peeta finally finds her? Will he get there in time? Will the medicine work? Review! Let me know what you think, please. =]**


	31. Chapter 31 Not Real

**I do not own the **_**Hunger Games!**_

**I apologize for the delay of this chapter, I am going to try to write them quicker but I have been extra busy. And my life has been extra Jinxed lately so please bear with me. Thank you to all of you who liked the story and put it as a favorite, also to those of you that reviewed, I especially thank you. **

**Athena's POV:**

I doze on and off to the alien sounds echoing within the cavern, while outside it grows dark and my eyes meet the mask of darkness but are quick to adjust. My father made every attempt to create the perfect warrior, the beginning of his plans starting with my appearance so that my topaz eyes cut through the cover of night—night vision. A sound jumps out from the far corner and I frown, turning my head in the direction of the sound and expecting it to just be another wave lapping against a stone.

I narrow my eyes and ignore the slamming pain in my head in attempt to focus; finally, my eyes catch a dark figure slinking at far wall and I force myself to remain still in hope that the animal does not notice me. However, the potent scent of iron and a strange sweetness hangs in the air and I know that it can smell my blood—that the smell was what probably led it here.

I grit my teeth as I hear the scraping of nails about a foot away from my curled in legs, smelling the mix of wet fur and trees that seems to waft off the beast that is stalking me. A wet sensation touches my bare calf as the animal sniffs me, my heart pounds while a combination fear and anger pump through my veins. Is this how I am going to die? To be taken out by some mutated beast that will tear me apart until it has had his fill, rather than me waiting for the poison to kill me slowly. Perhaps I should welcome this death, instead of the painful endurance of the later, but inside the poison spurs on my fury and I refuse to die this way.

The animal smells its way up my body, taking a slow and anxious inventory, while I remain perfectly still—a huntress waiting to strike on her pray. Normally, as a strict vegetarian, I do not condone to killing beautiful animals but in my heart of hearts I know that this beast is not an animal. It is a mutation, sent from the seventh-circle of hell to tear me apart to gain its filling.

After a few more moments the animal seems to decide that I am pronounced dead, stupid thing, and it opens its jaws in anticipation while its vile breath skims over my throat. My firm grip on the knife I have been curled up with horizontally strikes it in both its eyes and it yelps and growls at the sudden movement and pain as it bears its sharp canine teeth and paces in attempt to listen for me. My knife glints in the darkness and I crouch soundlessly, waiting and weaponless as my bag sits a few feet away.

Searching around me, I finally discover a few rocks on the cave floor and grasp four of them with an aching body. Silence bounces off the walls and the only sound is from the gentle lapping of water, I squint at the animal as it waits tense and ready to pounce at the slightest sound but overall cautious of its newfound blindness.

I grit my teeth and throw the smallest rock near the right side of animal, it attacks the air and I wait as it sinks its teeth into rock while I wait. Moments later, I throw the second rock to the animals left side and it cautiously turns its head in decision to strike but its animalistic intuition seems to win and it lets out a yelp as it sinks its teeth into another rock. Growling, the beast is pissed off and snaps its jaws in fury while it begins to smell me and takes slow predatory steps towards me but I stay in my crouched position. The animals large, jagged teeth drip saliva on my knees as it stares at me with blind, bleeding eyes—the knife still in place.

Another sound echoes from the lapping waves and with a sinking heart I wonder if this beast has a pack, or if the sound of the waters disturbance brings on an entirely new challenge for me to deal with. However, the beast in front of me seems to pause and turn its head in the direction of the foreign sound. It sounds like something treading through the water with slow, heavy steps until it the steps hesitantly meet the stones that rise up onto the cave floor.

The figure, human looking I notice through my strained vision, pauses and both my heart leaps and skips a beat because this could either mean I am about to get help or definitely die. The animal in front of me growls, sensing it being outnumbered, I decide to take the persons distraction and slam the two rocks in my hands into either side of the beasts temples. The sound of the rock impacting the animal's skull echoes loud and severe, and it slumps to the ground without so much as a growl of surprise before it falls dead.

I pull the knife out from between the creature's eyes and rush over to my bag on hands and knees, the adrenaline has been spent from my body and I find it hard to stand now…I am so weak but I must get the necessary weapons to protect myself. Protect myself from whomever this stranger reveals himself to be, potential ally or enemy.

The figure is too far away, and my vision far too hazy, for me to concentrate on the person's features except for the fact that the individual is male and…big. The man takes a hesitant step forward, his body turned in my direction and my hand flies out of my bag until a knife embeds itself into the crack of a stone beside the man's head.

"Ahh," he bellows and crouches down defensively with his hands waving above his head in surrender.

"That is close enough, sir." The words pant out and I place a hand on my pounding head but keep my other hand wrapped around another knife.

"Athena?" The voice speaks out hopeful, that voice…so painfully familiar. "Athena," the voice repeats with that beautiful tone.

"Stay where you are," I pant out as my body begins to shiver uncontrollably and a strange ache enters my chest. I try to stand but then fall to one knee again with legs that feel like they are jelly, my hands grasp my pounding skull that has risen to the point of unbearable, and a scratching enters the back of my throat so that I begin to cough.

"Athena!" The man's concern voice cuts through the horrid coughing like a knife, choking me. He takes a few steps forward and I throw another knife for warning that he should stay where he is, that just because I am a mess of poison and coughing does not mean that I am helpless and weak. Though, how my muscles ache to collapse on the cavern floor and to feel the cold stone against my hot cheek.

"Ow! Athena, damn it, you nicked me." I hear him rustling around in his bag and I frown at the sound of ripping fabric and his mumbled cursing.

"I said. Not. A. Step. Closer," I warn him but my voice ends up coming out very weak. I moan in agony as my stomach begins to churn and I begin dry heaving because there is nothing left in my stomach than water, which already seemed to make its reappearance. Gross.

But goodness was I ever thirsty now, I think to myself as I stare at the cold ground before me and then glare at the intruder when I hear him making his way even closer to where I am coughing and heaving.

"Baby…" My eyes widen at not just the intimate way the stranger addressed me but the rush of familiarity, the understanding, that came with this sudden figure. I am losing it again, the delusions are back to haunt me and I do not think I have the strength to resist them. I am so bone tired but the sounds of his footsteps sound so real, and the poison makes the ache in my chest burn with false hope and self-loathing.

Peeta is not here, Peeta is not here, Peeta is not here. This, all of this, is just a delusion from the poison and the illness that is claiming your body. I keep still and pray this agony will end.

"Athena," Peeta's voice whispers in concern. "I cannot see you in the dark but hold on a minute." I hear the sound of him rustling around in a bag and I curl myself in a ball, attempting to make myself small enough to disappear.

A pale purple light glows in the darkness and I see him, I see the man that betrayed me with such clarity that it is like a knife twisting in my heart. He is so beautiful and gone is the lack of focus from my last delusion, I close my eyes tightly as tears prick my vision.

"Athena," Peeta chokes out and drops to his knees in front of me. His fingertips caress my undamaged cheek and put my head down, away from his grasp as I begin rocking back and forth gently.

"Athena, I am here to help you, I have medicine." He begins rummaging around in his bag again and I repeat the mantra that will hopefully raise my sanity. He is not real, he is not real, he is not real…

His hands try to rub my shoulders in attempt to comfort me but I shrink away, wincing, and continue rocking back and forth. Not real, not real, not real…He is never coming for me.

I slump to the ground in defeat, curling into myself once more and repeating my mantra but the delusion grabs hold of my shoulder to ease me to him and I hiss in pain as my shoulder throbs.

His hands jump away as if they just touched fire, begins saying my name in panic, and asking where my injury is located—where the snake bit me. "Please," Peeta begs quietly. "Athena, look at me."

I stare at him, confused and wary, wondering how my imagination comes up with the exact replica of Peeta. However, I remain silent and contemplating.

"I brought medicine to take the poison away," he say to me in that worried tone but my eyes begin to lose focus on him, the light, the caves surroundings, everything.

My eyes begin to roll back in my head, a dizzy feeling leaving me spent. "You're not real," I whisper before I fall under and hear Peeta's calling my name in panic again. "Not real."

**Peeta's POV:**

He pulls her limp body into his lap, brushing Athena's hair out of her dirt and bloody streaked face. "Baby…" A hand clenches his heart and he feels hollow inside, the organ beating slow and painful at the sight of the life-less form in his lap.

Peeta checks her pulse and feels the faint flutter of her heartbeat but it is much too slow, and he knows that he must work fast to inject the medicine that Katniss packed. His fingers fumble over the syringe and the serum's casing, he rips open the sleeve of Athena's suit, finds a suitable vein and with a pounding heart he injects the medicine into her bloodstream.

Afterwards, he slumps against the wall and stares down at the tragic beauty that is battered and bruised in his lap. _You're not real_. Was that just the poison talking? He looks around the craven and sees the animal that Athena was dealing with when he came upon her, blinking in awe he finds a wolf-like creature with bright blue talons and spikes protruding along its spine. The fur of the creature is sliver color that is stained crimson from being drenched in its own blood. Its eyes are bloodied and blinded while its temples are angled at an odd angle from impact.

"Jesus, Athena…" He holds he tighter and then sets her gently down so that he can dispose of the animals body, set up a sleeping bag for Athena's sleeping body, and clean her wounds.

After getting back from throwing the body out of the cave, Peeta fills a bowl that is in his pack with water and grabs a cloth and soap to begin washing the blood and dirt from her face.

Gently he skims the wet, soapy cloth over her cheek and instantly her white skin shines through like a smooth, white petal on a dirt covered ground. Once finished with the one side of her face he moves to the other side that is caked in blood, rummaging through his bag again he pulls out a bag of herbs that Katniss assured would take away any sign of infection.

Carefully he places the leaves in his mouth and chews before placing them on the infected wound on Athena's cheek, instantly the infection leaks out from the cut that runs from her temple down to her jawline. Washing it all away he places a salve on the injury and then delicately places a number of small bandages on the areas that continue to bleed. Reflexively, after the bandages are in place, Peeta leans forward and gently kisses each from her temple and down to the base of her jaw.

"Ah," Athena moans in her sleep and tilts her head back with her lips parted.

Shaking his head he looks down at her throat and sees the tiny cuts that were made with a light, torturous hand and he shudders at what Athena must have already went through. Frowning he unbuttons the top button of her suite as his face heats up at the feel of her bare skin, thankfully, he finds that she has an undershirt underneath the suite so he pushes the top of the suit down to rest at her hips.

Then he washes the blood and grim from her neck, shoulders and arms before deciding that that should be clean enough for now because he does not want to violate her. He pats her dry with the end of a towel gently, gulping when he reaches the area where water dripped down between her breasts and blushes when his fingertips accidently touch the skin just above her cleavage.

"Mmm, Peeta." Athena murmurs again at Peeta's frozen fingers and she arches her back against his touch with a small smile. The act causes his pinky finger to accidently brush against the crevice between her breasts. He gulps again and quickly withdraws his hand, glancing anywhere but at her sleeping form.

The top of the suit is filthy so he cuts the fabric, places her on the sleeping bag he set up and covered her with a thick blanket as he washed the top of her suit and hung it up to dry. Returning to her, Peeta finds her shaking like a leaf but when he feels her forehead he knows she is in the process of breaking a fever.

He settles down beside her and wraps his arms around her shivering body, knowing all that there is left to do is wait. So keeps watch for any sound of impending danger and holds her protectively against his chest.

"Not real," Athena mumbles quietly and then shivers. I pull her closer to me as I am reminded of my own game of Real and Not Real that I once played with Katniss, and with a sinking heart I kiss the top of Athena's head and hope that she will be okay. And that I made it here in time.

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